


Prompts and Ficlets

by quantumoddity



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Coming Out, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, mentions of child abuse, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8910067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Okay so these are prompts that people have given me that they've come up with themselves or else extensions of headcanons I have! Hope you enjoy! Please comment and let me know your favourites!





	1. "Dude, you need a hobby..."

The first time, they were pretty much just shocked.

The guys didn’t think much of it when the first thing Alex said after they got back from the holidays was if they wanted to get a drink. It was Alexander Hamilton, after all.

So they all crowded into their usual table at their favorite bar, the one they’d been thrown out of the least amount of times, swapping stories of their various embarrassing Christmases across the world.

“I tell you boys,” Laff sighed dramatically, sinking lower in his seat, “There is no sight worse than my family after a bottle of wine, I thought ma mere was going to give somebody a black eye.”

Laurens snorted derisively, slamming his glass back on the table as if to prove his point, “You have seen nothing until you’ve seen a South Carolina Christmas, my friend. Suffer through a tableful of my conservative, homophobic relatives and then come talk to me.”

Hercules and Lafayette winced sympathetically. Laurens mimed taking a bow “Beat that.”

“I think I know someone who can,” Hercules chuckled, “Alexander. I want to hear how badly he messed up with the Schuyler’s.”

They all smirked, they’d endured months and months of their friend’s stress and anxiety over spending the holidays with Eliza’s rich and influential family, they were interested to see how things had played out.

“Who had what again?” Lafayette asked, flinging his long legs up onto the neighboring chair, pointing to his own chest, “I had that he’d end up on the dinner table making a speech about long term economics.”

Herc held up his hand, “I bet he’d burst into tears at one point in front of her family.”

“And I had that he’d start an argument with the priest at the Christmas Eve mass,” Laurens rubbed his hands together eagerly, “Thirty dollars at stake, lads, who’s going to win it?”

“We’re about to find out,” Laff raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the door with his pint glass, “Here he is. Finally.”

Alexander was hurrying towards them, darting his way through the crowd, looking more…frantic than usual. All three of them exchanged a slightly worried look. Alex wasn’t someone who hid his emotions well and, looking at him, something had happened.

He collapsed the a chair beside Laff, only giving him a heartbeat to move his legs, nearly tipping the chair right over with his momentum, emptying his arms of books and paper all over the table.

“Guys!” he gasped, his eyes wide and wild, half out of breath.

“Nice to see you, Al,” Hercules commented a little dryly, quickly shifting glasses out of the path of Alex’s avalanche to avoid a flood of beer.

“Good Christmas?” Laurens asked, his eyebrows rose as he looked over his friend.

Alex blinked at him like he had no idea what he was saying, like everything was reaching him through some kind of fog, “What? Oh. Yeah. Was fine.”

Another glance. Something was definitely up.

Lafayette pushed his half finished drink towards Alexander, “Is everything okay, mon amie?”

Alex gnawed at his bottom lip, ‘Well, uh…I’ve got some news. Something that happened over winter break.”

After awkwardly casting about for words for a few moments, he took the glass and drained it in one go, like what he had to say could only be said after half a pint of alcohol.

His friends leaned forward interestedly, a little apprehensively. Here we go.

After a while, Alex eventually sighed and smiled crookedly, “Eliza’s pregnant. We’re going to be parents.”

There was no sound expect the dull thunk of glasses hitting the table and jaws hitting chests.

Of all the things they’d been expecting, that had not been one of them.

The long silence turned Alex’s grin into something more like a nervous grimace, “Um…guys. Say something. Please.”

It was a few more minutes before the news really sank in.

“You…you serious? This isn’t a badly timed April fools joke or something?” Hercules asked weakly.

Alex frowned, “In January? No. It’s the truth. We found out Christmas Eve.”

“Good God,” Lafayette murmured, his expression dumbfounded.

Laurens had gone very, very quiet but his eyes found Alex’s and he asked in a small voice, “Are you okay?”

A wide, nervous grin grew across his face, “Honestly? It was a bit of a shock but…it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

After another heartbeat’s pause, Laurens began to laugh. It wasn’t long before Herc and Laff joined in, laughing partly in disbelief, partly in a bewildered sort of joy.

Alex was lifted off his feet by the group hug that quickly followed. He grinned in relief as Hercules Mulligan lifted him high enough to nearly touch the ceiling; he hadn’t been sure how the guys were going to react.

“I’m going to be a dad you guys!” he crowed delightedly, letting himself give into the joy that had been building up in his chest all day.

“Yeah and God help us all!” Lafayette laughed, thumping Alex on the arm.

“I honestly can’t believe you,” Hercules shook his decidedly shorter friend, “You idiot! I feel like I should be giving you a lecture about responsibility.”

“Don’t fuck this up,” was Lauren’s advice, barely intelligible, as he laughed so hard he could hardly stand up.

Alex rolled his eyes. He could tell they were proud though.

They were going to make pretty good uncles, he reckoned.

“Wait!” Hercules’ eyes snapped open like he’d just though of something incredibly important. Alex found himself back on the ground very suddenly, a little too suddenly, only the fact that Lafayette was still refusing to let him go stopped him from crumpling to the ground.

“You told her parents right?” he asked.

Alex nodded, “Scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life but yeah.”

Hercules’ eyes shone, “Did you cry?”

He flushed bright red, “T-that’s neither here nor there. But…yeah. A little.”

Alex wasn’t quite sure why Herc suddenly punched the air and whooped in triumph and Laff and Laurens groaned and started digging in their pockets.

He decided not to ask.

-

The sixth time, they decided to have a little fun with him.

None of them were surprised any more when Alex asked if they wanted to come over after work for a coffee, just to chat, no particular reason, nothing big to discuss, just friends catching up.

‘Why does he even bother trying to hide it anymore?’ Laurens texted Lafayette after he listened to the obviously excited, restless voicemail Alex had left him.

‘He’s got a flair for the dramatic, let him have his fun,’ he answered.

Almost the second Alex had passed them all a mug and they’d settled on the sofa in the Hamilton’s living room, he sprang forward like he couldn’t keep the words in any longer.

“Okay, okay, okay guess what you guys?” he grinned, his eyes shining, bouncing up and down like he was three rather than in his thirties, “We’re having another baby! Me and Betsey!”

He definitely did not get the reaction he was expecting.

Lafayette blinked and made a vague noise of mild surprise. Hercules nodded and gave a limp thumbs up.

Laurens just rolled his eyes, “Dude you need a hobby. This is getting ridiculous.”

Alex’s face fell, “Did you guys hear me?”

Herc took a sip of coffee, “Oh, we heard you fine. It’s just this is like the what, millionth time? It’s not so impressive any more.”

Their friend’s mouth was moving silently, his eyes incredulous, “What? My…my children are ‘not so impressive’?”

Laurens shrugged, “Honestly? I think you’ve got a little bit of a problem.”

“Don’t get me wrong, we’re happy for you, dude,” Hercules held his hand up, placating, “Its just old news.”

“Old…news…” Alex repeated flatly, scowling.

He looked very put out.

Then the door clicked open, Eliza walking in, “Oh! Hi guys! Alex told you the news?”

All three of them were on their feet in an instant; Eliza’s expression was surprised, quickly softening into amusement as she found herself in the middle of a group hug.

“Congrats, you angel!” Hercules grinned, tousling her dark hair.

“You look positively beautiful,” Lafayette declared, his arms around her waist.

“So proud of you,” Laurens hung off her shoulders, pecking her cheek, making her blush.

“Oh come on!” Alex yelped in exasperation, crossing his arms and pouting sulkily, “you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Well its not like you’re doing any of the real work, is it Alexander?” Lafayette pointed out.

“I-well…shut up!” Alex was starting to get the idea that he was being messed with here. Embarrassed, he couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face.

From the midst of their friends, Eliza grinned and stuck her tongue out at him, making it even harder to hold back his grin.

He loved his family.


	2. "I can't fucking do this any more..."

Pip was the best big brother; he always came up with the most exciting games on rainy Saturday afternoons like this. This week’s involved them all sliding around the living room floor in their socks, trying to see who could skid the furthest or who could take the most siblings down with them in one go. There was the slight risk of a broken bone or two, but it was a lot of fun. 

Jamie even managed to keep laughing as a head on collision with his much older, much taller brother sent the two of them tumbling out into the hall, crashing against the front door a heap of tangled limbs. 

“Oof,” Philip groaned, flopping on his side, realizing he was squishing Jamie underneath him, “Sorry about that buddy, you okay?”

“I’m good!” he managed to sound cheery even with all the wind knocked out of him, “Let’s do that again!” 

Philip grinned nervously, helping his little brother to get the right way up again, “Well maybe not quite like that…but Mom doesn’t need to know about this, okay?” He quickly began to gather the photos that had come raining down on them from the impact, his heartbeat relaxing a little with each one that wasn’t broken. Why their mom insisted on keeping so many near identical photos of her and their dad at the hospital with one of the Hamilton newborns, you couldn’t even tell which, he’d never know. But he knew it was more than his life’s worth to let any of them break. 

Jamie snorted with laughter and bent to help Philip but his hand suddenly froze over one of the letters that had spilled onto the floor. He tilted his head curiously.   
It had his name on it.

James Hamilton, written in a spidery, careless scrawl that he didn’t recognize. It looked like it had come a long, long way. 

“Is this for me?” he asked curiously, squinting at it, his five year old’s curiosity getting the better of him as he ran his nail under the seal without waiting for an answer.   
There was only one sheet of paper in it; the message wasn’t very long at all. Jamie frowned at the handwriting, it was practically indecipherable. He picked out a few words: ‘son’, ‘mother’, ‘Alexander; was that his dad? And then, as a sign off, his name again. James Hamilton. 

Suddenly, Jamie got the feeling that he was looking at something he really wasn’t meant to see. He didn’t know what this letter was but it wasn’t for him. It was something private.

Philip turned and saw what his little brother was doing, starting to panic. 

“Jamie, that’s for dad, you shouldn’t-“ but then he saw the name written in the corner and stopped too. 

He’d never heard the name James Hamilton, except applied to his brother. But there was only one person it could be. 

Jamie handed the letter over hastily; blushing guiltily, looking worried, “What is it?” His eyes were wide, a plea for his big brother to make sense of things like he usually did.

Philip knew what he should do; he should drop the envelope and tell Jamie to forget about it, to not go poking around in their dad’s business. But he didn’t. Against his better judgment, he started to read the few sparse lines on the page. And then he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise; his knuckles tighten around the paper. Who the fuck was this guy? 

This wasn’t good. 

“Boys, what are you doing?” 

Their father’s voice echoing down the hall suddenly made them both jump a mile in the air, whipping around to face him with twin expressions of shame and guilt.

“Um, nothing, we were just…” Philip cast about for an excuse; an explanation but he had nothing. 

Alex’s frown deepened, he knew that look. 

“What’s that you’ve got there, Philip?” he asked sternly, reaching out for him to give up the letter. 

Jamie jerked to life, “It was my fault, Dad! I opened it and-“

“No, no, he didn’t know, he just saw his name and got confused,” Philip leapt to his brother’s defense immediately, “Don’t blame him.” 

“What are you both talking about?” Alex’s voice was suddenly low and dangerous in a way it very rarely got, as he took the letter from his son. 

They both winced as Alex glanced down and within a heartbeat his face paled and his muscles tightened. He’d started to shake. 

Before he said them Philip knew the words were a bad idea but he just had to say them, “Dad…is this, like, your dad? Is this how he treats you?” 

Of all the things he’d been expecting when Alex looked up and met his eyes, fury wasn’t one of them. 

“You had no right to read this. No right,” he growled, his dark eyes burning. 

Philip stammered, completely taken aback, “I…we…I’m sorry-“

“Quiet! What the hell did you think you were doing or did you just not think at all? What’s wrong with you two?” Alex’s voice climbed in volume, his whole body was shaking, “Just going through my private stuff, reading my letters, what made you think that was a good idea?” 

He wanted to stop. He really, really wanted to stop but he couldn’t. He wasn’t in control of what he said anymore. 

Tears were running down Jamie’s cheeks, Philip just looked aghast. Alex only got angrier. 

“I can’t believe you did something so idiotic, this is none of your business, you wouldn’t get it. Never, ever ask me about this again. Do you understand? Do you understand?”

His last furious shout echoed through the hall, making both his sons flinch like he’d struck them, nodding fearfully. 

Alex dropped the letter, scowling and turned away without so much as an apology. A heartbeat later the door to his office slammed with a final crash.

There was a pause, a long terrible pause as all three of them absorbed what had just happened.

Jamie was the one who broke the silence, his little shoulders trembling as he broke down in sobs. Philip just stared straight ahead, his jaw slack with shock and horror.   
His dad had never, ever spoken to either of them like that before. Ever. 

He felt sick. 

Neither boy noticed Eliza running up to them, the sound of Alex’s voice reaching her all the way in the kitchen. She flew immediately to Jamie, wrapping him up in her arms, stroking his hair and murmuring soothing words to him. 

“What is it? What happened?” she asked Philip, her eyes wide and frantic. 

But he still had no words; it was Jamie who answered, barely understandable through his hitching, wailing sobs.

“I-I-I m-made dad angry and he yelled and, and n-n-now he hates me,” he stammered, burying his face against his mom’s shoulder, “I r-ruined everything.”   
Eliza looked horrified, “He what? Jamie, no…”

Philip found his voice, “Jamie, bud, he doesn’t hate you, promise. He just…well…”

His mother reached out a hand to him, pulling him into her arms, realizing before he did that he needed comforting too, “Your father yelled at you?”

Philip nodded, gnawing at his lip anxiously, “He went kind of crazy. But I think I understand why.”

Eliza read the letter, Jamie still hanging onto her, sniffling miserably. Her eyes went wide and then her whole face clouded, like a sudden storm. Her breathing quickened and she suddenly looked like she didn’t know whether to be mad or to cry. 

“Oh,” she murmured, her voice flat, “I see.”

With a heavy sigh, she gave both boys a last tight squeeze and a kiss on their forehead and then made for Alex’s office, “I need to talk to him. I’ll fix this, I promise.”   
She wasn’t sure she could fix this. But damn it she was going to try.

 

As soon as Alex’s office door shut behind him, he sank to the floor, curling in on himself and breaking down in wracking sobs. 

What had he done? What had he done?

The words he’d yelled at his sons kept throbbing in his mind like some awful poison. He couldn’t believe he’d said those words to his children, to the most precious things in his life. He sobbed harder, putting his head between his knees, his fingers grasping at his hair. 

He thought of his own words but behind them he heard other words. Spoken in a voice low and threatening, the ones that stalked him whenever he felt like a failure, like he was worthless.

Don’t you speak that language in this house, speak English for fuck’s sake…Don’t think I don’t see what you do with that boy from down the street, I hear what people say about you. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, a freak for a son…Get that fucking book off the table, what are we doing spending my hard earned money on books? Like you’re ever going to make anything of yourself…

Alex moaned, digging his nails into his neck in an attempt to drive the words away. 

The one thing he’d promised himself was that he’d never turn into his father. And what had he done? 

The gentle knock at the door made him wince. Eliza’s voice, soft and sad, “Alexander? Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t want to see her, not after what he’d done. Shame and self-hatred clawed at his chest. 

“Eliza…I…” he tried to say something but he couldn’t stop his voice shaking.

The next think he knew, the door was opening and softly closing and her arms were around him. 

“I’m sorry, I-I’m really sorry,” he gasped out, wanting to pull away from her and hide but unable to stop himself clinging to her warmth and comfort. He didn’t deserve her. 

“Apologise to them,” Eliza sighed quietly, “When you’re ready. But I understand.” 

Alex moaned and she moved to stroke his back, holding him tightly, fiercely wishing she could protect him from all of this. Her poor Alex. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore, Eliza,” he sobbed, “I can’t live with this in my head. I can’t…”

“Alex, baby, it’s okay. You’re worth so much more than him,” she murmured soothingly, “Look how far you’ve gotten without him, look at where you are. He can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Alex wished he could believe her. But he appreciated her words more than he could ever say, just letting her hold him until her presence alone brought him back to reality. 

“I need to go find the boys,” he staggered to his feet, “I need to apologise.”

Eliza nodded, steadying him as his legs weren’t quite ready to stop shaking, “Alex. I think you need to tell them. All of them.”

On instinct, he balked at the idea. He’d kept this stuff locked inside him for so long, sharing it with no one but Eliza. He couldn’t expose his kids to that…  
But his wife’s gaze was firm and knowing. He took a breath and decided to trust her. 

He’d never regretted trusting his Betsey before.

“I love you,” he sighed, shakily as she took his hand and lead him out of his office.

“I love you too, Alex,” she squeezed his fingers reassuringly, “So much.”

 

It broke Alex’s heart to see the way Jamie recoiled a little when he walked into the room. Drying his eyes on his sleeves had been a waste of time.

“James, I’m so, so sorry,” he sighed, kneeling down so he could look his son in the eyes, reaching out to Philip, “You too. I…I freaked out and I took my emotions out on you and that wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.” 

Jamie blinked his large eyes and nodded, taking off into his dad’s open arms. Philip managed a small smile, “It’s okay dad.” 

Alex straightened, up, managing to still lift Jamie into his arms, even if he was getting a little big these days. His son’s short little arms around him, his feathery hair tickling his nose gave him an odd sort of confidence to look up and face the rest of his children, watching him with anxious eyes.

“So…yeah, Pip. That’s my dad and that’s how he treats me. He emotionally abused me when I was a kid, abandoned my mom and me and now I guess he asks for money every five years or so? So yeah, dad of the year,” Alex tried to pass it off as a joke but his trembling voice and red eyes kind of made it fall a little flat. 

The little ones looked confused. The older ones hackles rose instantly, like they were already fully prepared to jump between their father and this threat they hadn’t even been aware of until now. 

“He what?” AJ growled, his shoulders tightening defensively, “Sounds like a real dick.” 

Eliza gave him a small sigh but no one asked him to pay up for the swear jar.

“Dad that’s…that’s awful,” Angie’s eyebrows were halfway to her hairline, “How come you never said?”

Alex shrugged a little awkwardly as Jamie buried his face in his shoulder and Eliza came up and wound her arm reassuringly through his.

“You know, just kind of…hard to talk about.”

“You’re so emotionally constipated Dad,” AJ sighed. 

Philip rolled his eyes at his brother, finishing the sentence for him, “But we love you. And you should be really proud of yourself that you still manage to be such a good dad without him.”

Alex had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to stop himself just crying all over again, “Thanks. Thanks son.” 

“Okay guys,” Eliza clapped her hands together, “Hug pile on your father!”

They were out of their seats before they’d even finished. Alex didn’t even try to keep his feet, just laughing as he sank under the weight of his children, trying to hold as many of them as humanly possible. 

He loved them. He loved them all so much. 

As long as he had them, he knew he’d done at least one thing right.


	3. "Hope had been enough, in the end"

Her colleagues at the orphanage had long since stopped wondering where Eliza Hamilton was whenever they found her desk empty. The answer was always the same.

She’d be down in the day center with the children, sat on a chair that was really designed for someone about ten years younger than she was, her knees pulled tight to her chest, her sensible work clothes spattered with paint or sand or glue and glitter, surrounded by an audience of adoring kids. They’d be squirming their way onto her lap, telling her stories or asking a million different questions. All Eliza would do was hold them close and nod patiently, her eyes shining with interest, like the kid in front of her was the most wonderful thing in the world, even when she had a pile of reports still to do waiting on her desk. Eliza just had a way with them, a way of making the children feel listened to and safe in a way they hadn’t been able to feel in a long time. 

She was very, very good at her job. And she loved doing it.

One Friday morning, she was sat cross-legged on the carpet in the craft corner, listening intently as little Frances Antill, one of the girls who’d been living here for a while and had taken a real shine to Eliza, explained how she had this idea that all the stars were best friends and talked to each other at night but they were so far away that people just couldn’t hear. 

Eliza grinned, dipping her index finger in the yellow paint to continue the field of daisies that she was actually pretty proud of, “And what would the stars talk about, do you think?” 

Frances tilted her head, like she was thinking, “Probably how cold it is up there.”

Eliza smiled crookedly; proud that the little informal astronomy lesson she’d done for the kids last week hadn’t been for nothing. 

One finger print in the middle, five more around it and she had another flower. Eliza wondered quietly why adults seemed determined to forget how fun things like finger painting were, how nice it was to simply make something pretty. Kids really did have the right idea. 

She glanced at the clock. There was a budget meeting upstairs in five minutes that she really had to be at and she couldn’t exactly turn up with bright yellow and green fingers. Again. 

“Well, I’ve got to go do boring grown up stuff, Frankie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sucks to be you,” the girl answered, not even looking up from her own painting. 

“I know,” Eliza rolled her eyes and gave her a quick, hard hug before heading over to the sink. 

It took her a while to notice the young girl stood nervously just behind her, she started a little when she turned around. At first Eliza thought she was very, very young but she realized she was actually almost a teenager. She was just making herself incredibly small, almost like she was hoping that she could curl in on herself and disappear entirely. 

“Oh!” Eliza exclaimed, “I didn’t see you there!”

She stopped, studying the young girl’s shock of dark hair that she seemed to be trying to hide behind, her wide, startled eyes like an animal about to bolt, her painfully skinny arms as she hugged herself, her ill fitting clothes. They’d clearly come from the orphanage’s wardrobe of spare clothes.

Eliza knew all the kids in the orphanage and she’d never seen this girl before. 

“Oh, are you new? What’s your name, lovely?” Eliza asked with a gentle smile, reaching a hand towards her, “I’m Eliza Hamilton.” 

The girl flinched back rather than answering and as she did, Eliza caught sight of the savage, angry bruises on her stick thin arms as her sleeve rode up. She felt her heart stop and her stomach lurch sickeningly. 

“Sweetheart…” Eliza gasped but the girl was gone, blurring and disappearing before she could gather herself. 

Eliza was still shaking as Kitty, who’d been here as long as she had came running up. 

“I, um, see you met Evie then?” her friend sighed, a little apologetically, “She just came in last night. The police brought her.”

Eliza’s wide eyes were fixed on the space the little girl had been occupying, “The police…” God, those bruises had looked awful, so dark and angry. 

Kitty’s face was grim, “Yeah. She was in a really awful situation by the sounds of it. Unsurprisingly, she’s having a bit of…trouble settling in.”

Eliza shook herself, “Has Angela spoken to her?” 

She had a lot of faith in the orphanage’s consultant therapist. 

“Yeah,” Kitty ran an anxious hand through her hair, “She’s tried but it’s going to take some work, I mean, the poor thing obviously finds it hard to trust people. Woman especially, after what her mother did to her-“

“Her mother did that?” Eliza balked, her face paling.

Kitty nodded sadly. 

Eliza leant back on the sink, trying to steady herself. She knew the kind of things the children in her care had been through before they found their way here, it was painful but it was the truth, it was why she did this. 

It was just…sometimes it jumped up and hit her in the chest. Hard. 

“I guess we just need to give her some time,” Kitty put a hand on Eliza’s arm, “Just have to hope she’ll come around.”   
Eliza nodded mutely, blinking quickly. 

Hope. That was all they could do. In that moment, it didn’t feel like enough. 

-

“Eliza, honey?” Alex called gently, keeping his voice low as he sat on the bed, combing his fingers through his hair, “I think she’s good to go down now.” 

Eliza jumped a little; she’d been lost in her own thoughts. Nodding, she bent and laid her daughter down in the crib as carefully as she could, pulling the blanket she’d made herself over her tiny body and kissing her forehead one last time before letting her sleep. 

She spent a moment; gazing at her daughter’s sweet, gentle face and tiny, tight black curls. Her little Angie, her baby girl.

But it was another little girl’s face she was seeing. 

Alex was a little surprised (and a little offended) when his Eliza didn’t cuddle in against him like she usually did as she crawled under the blankets with him, after he’d turned out the light. She stayed far away, her back to him, her muscles tight and tense. Alex frowned, peering over his shoulder at her through the gloom. Was she…she was. 

“Eliza?” he murmured, his voice flooding with concern, “Eliza, baby, are you crying?”

His wife’s head dropped and she brought her hands to her face, like she was hiding. Her soft, painful sobs became audible. 

“Oh, Eliza,” Alex sighed, turning and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head against her shoulder blades, “Its okay, I’ve got you…”

Eliza was wracked with sobs, shaking and trembling all over for so long before she could speak. Her voice was so sad and broken it physically hurt Alex. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, her voice hitching, “Just…had a hard day at work.” 

Alex stroked her hair soothingly, sighing. He knew what it meant when his wife said her day had been hard. He knew exactly what it meant.

“Don’t apologise. It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing the back of her neck. 

Eliza squirmed and spun so she could rest her head against his chest and let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm her. 

“Its just the worlds so cruel sometimes,” Eliza groaned, “People do such horrible things, to kids who’ve done nothing wrong, they don’t even get a chance, I don’t understand why-“ 

Her tears threatened to overwhelm her again, Alex shushed her gently. 

“I can’t protect them,” she whispered brokenly, “I can’t keep them safe. I can’t fucking fix any of it.” 

Alex pulled away a little so he could rest his hand under her chin; tilt her dark, damp eyes up to his.

“Eliza, honey, I know its hard. Believe me, I know, I’ve been there,” he explained in a sad, certain whisper, “The world is unfair. It’s cruel, its painful, it makes no sense. But the only reason it’s bearable is because people like you are in it.”

Eliza’s bottom lip trembled. 

“I mean it, Eliza. People like you who try, who don’t give up and still manage to care and be kind and love. That’s why the world’s still worth living in.”

She buried her face against his chest, clinging to him gratefully, more grateful than she had words for, “I just don’t know what to do.”

He kissed her forehead sweetly, “You’ll think of something, Betsey. I know you will. You managed to rescue me, didn’t you?” 

She gave him a small smile, “Yeah. Guess so.” 

He chuckled quietly, so happy to see her smile again. He leaned in to kiss her again and her lips found his, his hand moved to stroke the small of her back, her’s moved to his jaw. Eliza felt herself relax a little. 

Alex always made her feel like she could do anything. 

She wasn’t going to give up.

-

Eliza didn’t push it. She didn’t force it; she started off with small gestures. 

She smiled at Evie when she walked in the room the next day, just a small wave and nothing more. The day after that it was a quiet hello. The following week Eliza would cheerily sing out a good morning, a compliment on how nice Evie looked that day. The little girl would smile shyly back and murmur good morning, Mrs. Hamilton.   
One time, Eliza took a seat in the reading corner, a few chairs away from Evie, making sure it was okay with the young girl before she did. She didn’t try to start a conversation or anything; she just sat with her, reading. Evie blinked at this woman, this quiet, calm woman with a gentle face and soft dark hair. She felt herself relax a little. 

When Eliza finally found the time to finish her painting, she presented it to Evie, pointing out that the yellow would go with her jumper. Evie blinked and thanked her, her eyes wide with surprise, a startled little smile on her face. No one had ever given her a present before, a real present. Eliza just smiled and nodded like it was no big deal, like all she’d wanted was to make Evie smile.

Just small steps. 

The day Evie came and sat right next to Eliza on the sofa, nervously holding out a piece of paper with a carefully drawn picture for her was one of the best days of Eliza’s life. It only got better when she looked at the picture, a lovingly drawn house, full of smiling faces, friendly and open and honest faces. And a sign with the name of the orphanage.

Evie’s home. The girl had finally found a safe home.

When Eliza had opened her arms for a hug, the girl had accepted it eagerly, holding into her tightly. 

Hope had been enough, in the end.


	4. "The best big brother ever..."

Pip didn’t quite understand at first, he tilted his head like a confused puppy, blinking his large brown eyes at his parents. 

“New baby?” he repeated slowly, trying to wrap his three-year-old brain around the concept. 

“That’s right buddy. Isn’t that great?” his dad was crouched down so he could look his son in the eyes, grinning so excitedly that Pip smiled back almost reflexively. If the idea of a new baby made his dad so happy, then it must be a good thing. Right? 

“A baby brother or sister for you to play with,” his mom explained more, her voice warm and gentle in his ear, her fingers combing through his black curls soothingly. Pip loved sitting on his mom’s knee. But…if there were a new baby, how would there be room for both of them up here? 

He was having second thoughts about this. 

His little face furrowed, “New baby. Where from?” 

His dad laughed a little nervously and Philip felt the comforting vibrations as his mom chuckled and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Dad reached out and tweaked Pip’s nose like he did sometimes to make him start laughing too, “Well, that’s a little hard to explain, son. Suffice to say, from mommy’s tummy, okay?”

Dad sometimes used long words (like ‘suffice’, whatever that meant) or he said things that Pip didn’t understand. He’d always just nod and try and repeat them, imitating his dad’s deep voice as best he could. Because if his dad said it, then of course it must be true, right? Dad was always right. 

But little Pip scooted around to study his mom’s perfectly flat stomach, thinking that surely this was the one time that he might be wrong. 

“You’ll get what I mean,” Dad explained, tipping forward on the balls of his feet to kiss Pip on the forehead.

“But why? Why new baby?” he insisted, still looking unconvinced. 

Pip saw his dad glance anxiously at his mom. She picked him up and spun him so she could look in his eyes, so she could rub her nose on his in that silly way she did that always made him giggle. Pip thought his mom was really pretty, dad always said so and it was true, with her calm eyes and her smile, letting him know that everything was going to be okay. 

“Because we saw what a great kid you are, Philip, and thought, hey lets do that again!” Mom grinned, “And because we love you and we love being a family and we wanted to be a bigger family so there’s more love. Do you understand?” 

The logic of that checked out, as far as a three year old was concerned. Pip nodded, starting to warm to the idea. 

“And because we trust you, Pip,” Mom’s voice suddenly became more serious, like she was saying something really important and he should listen up, “Because being a big brother’s a huge responsibility but me and daddy know that you’ll do an amazing job.” 

That was interesting, “Huh?”

Dad came and sat on the sofa next to Mom, winding his arm around her shoulders, gazing at his son warmly. 

“Well, you’re going to be a big brother, you see, and that’s kind of like a job. A very, very important job,” Mom smiled gently, resting her hand under his chin, “You know how I have auntie Angelica and auntie Peggy? And how they look after me?”

Pip nodded, smiling. He loved his aunties a lot.

“Well now you’ll have a sister, or a brother, and you’ll be the oldest. And that means this baby is going to be one of your best friends. You’re going to be taking care of them and watching over them, keeping them out of trouble…do you think you can do that?” 

Pip blinked. Then he puffed his little chest out, straightening up, and his face suddenly perfectly serious, “Yes. I can. I am best big brother.” He reached out a pudgy little arm and patted his mom’s belly as gently as he could, “Best big brother ever. Promise. Hi new baby.” 

Mom kissed him and hugged him hard and dad looked a little like he was going to cry as he ruffled his curls but Pip thought it might be a happy thing.

“I know you’ll be amazing, buddy,” Dad smiled, squeezing him tight as soon as mom let him go. 

Pip nodded solemnly against his shoulder. Of course he would be, he’d made a promise. And he never, ever broke a promise. 

-

Philip hadn’t realized that nine months was going to feel like forever.

He kept asking and asking when the new baby was going to get here, when he’d get to meet them. Dad would laugh and patiently explain that it wouldn’t be much longer, the baby still needed some time to get a bit bigger. 

“I’m as impatient to meet them as you are buddy,” he promised as he carried Pip to bed one night. 

“But mommy already so big. Going to explode. How much longer?” he demanded, pouting.

His dad rolled his eyes and chuckled, hugging him a little closer, patting his back comfortingly, “I know, it’s a little weird. But we don’t know exactly how long it’s going to be. You’ll just have to hang on, okay?” 

Well, Philip was a Hamilton and a toddler, which meant he wasn’t very good at ‘just hanging on’. So he decided he was going to get started on being the best big brother a little early. It would be good to get a head start. 

So he started sitting with his mom on an evening, perched on the end of the sofa as she stretched out, holding very one-sided conversations with his new baby brother or sister. At first he felt a little silly, just talking out loud to someone he couldn’t even see, but dad always talked to the baby this way so why not? He told them all about the interesting leaves he’d seen at the park and he’d show them once they got here, how he could almost write his name already, how mom had taught him to bake cookies the other day and they tasted super nice but of course he’d share some with them. Mom would hold his hand while he talked and smile, which made Pip think he was doing okay so far. 

One day, Mom explained that the baby ate everything she ate, in a strange kind of way. Philip nodded and then started to halve all the food he had with her, insisting he wanted to share it with his sibling. Eliza laughed and gratefully accepted the half of the peanut butter sandwiches that were his favorite and the gummy worms he had that turned your tongue blue. They had a lot of fun wiggling their newly azure tongues at a very surprised Dad when he walked through the door. But she had to turn down the tuna pasta he offered her. That one he’d have to wait until everything the baby ate didn’t have to go through her, she admitted as she turned a worrying shade of green. Morning sickness and fish didn’t go well together. 

Philip also decided that part of being the best big brother in the whole world ever was acting as a small but determined guard dog. He held his mom’s hand as the walked through the streets, his eyes darting about like he was waiting for an attacker to leap from the bushes. Every time he passed the nursery, he’d toddle inside, doing a quick check under the crib for monsters, just like dad always did for him. Mom and dad thought it was funny but Pip was taking this seriously.  
He’d made a promise after all. 

One night Philip was sat with mom and dad just before bed. It was kind of late, he really should have been in tucked in quite a while ago but the baby was kicking so Pip’s bedtime had been momentarily forgotten. It was a little weird, he thought privately, to feel the nudging and rolling under his mom’s tight skin, like tiny mice were running around in there. Actually it was a lot weird but sort of cool too. Dad was hugging him tightly from behind, Pip could feel his tears dripping onto the top of his head but it was okay. 

“Hurts mommy?” Pip asked curiously. 

“No,” Mom smiled, her hand moving to cover his so they could feel it together, “It’s a little weird but it’s nice. It’s like they’re saying hello?”

Pip smiled and nodded, “Hello new baby.”

He felt dad hug him tighter. 

After a while, he piped back up again, “I’m doing good job? As big brother?”

He just wanted to check.

“Oh, buddy, you’re doing an amazing job!” Dad insisted, ruffling his curls, “Best big brother ever, definitely.”

“Hands down,” Mom nodded, her voice suddenly a little thick, smiling lovingly. 

Pip grinned, his face lit with pride. 

The best big brother ever. He was really looking forward to this.

-

Pip was bouncing up and down in the car seat the whole way to the hospital. How was he supposed to keep still when he was so excited, when he was meeting his new baby sister today? Mom and Dad had left for the hospital early yesterday morning and now he was finally able to go and visit.

Auntie Angelica just laughed at his eagerness and let him spring his way through the hospital corridors, catching him before he could go the wrong way, steering him towards the right room. 

Auntie Angelica had warned him that he’d need to be quiet and calm around the new baby so he tiptoed in, shuffling his feet so his trainers didn’t squeak on the floor. Which meant he nearly tripped over but he managed, scrambling up on the bed eagerly to peer at the bundle of blankets in his mom’s arms. 

“Hey there, buddy,” his dad grinned, sounding like he had a cold and looking exhausted but smiling like he was never going to stop, “Come say hi.” 

Pip’s eyes got wide as he gazed at her little face. He didn’t know people could get so small and so cute. He’d been worrying a little about how he was supposed to love someone he’d never met before, how he was supposed to have enough love for mom and dad and all the rest of his family and a new baby? What if he ran out? 

But now he’d actually met her, Pip very quickly realized that wasn’t going to be a problem. 

“She’s called Angelica. You could call her Angie for short,” Mom explained, smiling tiredly. 

“Angie,” Pip repeated, almost reverently, “My sister.”

“That’s right,” she grinned, adoring the loving, bewildered expression on her son’s face.

“My best friend,” Pip reached out a careful hand to touch her, a little scared of how delicate she looked. 

Mom nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Dad’s hand went to rest on her shoulder and he kissed the crown of Pip’s head.

“I hold her?” he asked, his fingers gently brushing his baby sister’s fluffy hair. It was dark and curly, just like his. 

“If dad helps you, of course you can.” 

So with his dad’s strong arms under his little ones, Pip got to hold his little sister for the very first time, talking to her in a gentle whisper, introducing himself, telling her all the fun things they were going to do and how happy he was to see her. 

As he was talking, her tiny little hands, opening and closing like little starfish, latched onto Pip’s thumb and held fast. His mouth fell open and he gaped at mom and dad, his eyes shining in delight like that simple touch was the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

“She likes me!” he gasped, forgetting to be quiet in his excitement. 

“Of course she does,” Mom laughed, the tears starting down her cheeks now.

“You’re the best big brother ever, remember?” Dad murmured, holding on to both his children tightly. 

Pip grinned. Yeah. Yeah, he was.


	5. 'And one day...poof...'

Aaron jumped a mile as the door to his daughter’s bedroom slammed shut with a deep thud that felt like it rocked the foundations of the house. For the first time in nearly three hours his mind thought about something other than polling numbers and approval ratings. Even from down the hall, he could hear it as she stomped over to her bed and seized her pillow and screamed into it until she ran out of air with a stuttering screech.

Evidentially Theo was home from the Hamilton’s.

Evidentially something was very wrong.

Aaron sighed heavily. The first thought in his mind was to bury himself deeper in his work and pretend he hadn’t heard that. But then he felt instantly guilty, bitter and cold in the back of his throat. He’d done enough of that.

He shook himself and eased out of his office chair, making for the door. Time to do some serious parenting.

-

Alex’s hands stilled on the keyboard at the soft knock on his door. His eyes flickered to the clock for the first time since he started working.

Yikes. Must be Eliza coming to drag him to bed. He frowned. Expect Eliza never knocked; she just walked right in and put her arms around him and her lips against the back of his neck usually.

“Come in,” he called, turning in his chair, curious.

It was Philip, looking exhausted, his face stormy.

Alex blinked, “Hey, Pip. You okay there?”

His eldest shook his head morosely, his bottom lip quivering like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. He took two steps and collapsed on the sofa, face first, groaning like someone in pain.

Alex blinked. He’d seen this coming for a while. With a small sigh he shut the laptop, forgetting about the spreadsheet for a moment. Time to do some serious parenting.

-

Aaron rapped his knuckles against Theo’s bedroom door carefully.

“Honey? Do you, um, want to talk about it?” he tried.

His daughter answer was a little too muffled to be understood; the pillow must have still been in front of her face. Aaron chose to take it as an affirmative. He’d soon find out if Theo didn’t want him in her room.

But no shoes or books came flying at his head as he pushed back the door. So far so good. Theo was lying face down on her bed, her face buried in the comforter, her hair flying in a wild mane about her head, her fingers curled into tight, white knuckled fists. Aaron came and perched next to her, resting his hand on the nape of her neck. He ran his thumb in slow, comforting circles, just like he used to do when baby Theo would be throwing a tantrum.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Talk to me,” Aaron murmured.

With a deep, troubled sigh, his daughter turned and curled up in a little ball on her side, leaning into his touch just a little.

“Everything sucks dad,” she groaned, “I’m moving to Antarctica so I never have to talk to another living human ever again.”

Aaron resisted the urge to laugh, letting only a smile flicker over his face that Theo couldn’t see, “Oh really? That’s such a shame, I’m going to miss you terribly.”

She blinked. There was a time, not that long ago, when she would have recoiled at that, hidden behind sarcasm and bile, not believing for a second that her dad would even notice if she was gone. But now she believed him. It was nice to have her father back, she thought quietly.

“I’d let you visit my igloo,” she sighed quietly, “Whenever you wanted. Just you though, no one else.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows, “Not even the Hamilton’s? I’m sure they’d miss you just as much.”

Theo pulled a face, “Eliza could visit, I’d miss her. And Alex, if he promised not to talk too much. And Angie. And AJ…maybe. And the little ones.”

There was a name missing off that list. Aaron nodded. He’d ducked and weaved his way to the problem.

“What about Philip? Isn’t he your best friend?”

Theo tensed, her face darkening, her voice small and tight, “I’m not so sure about that any more.”

“Oh,” Aaron bit his lip, “And why…why is that, baby?”

Theo sat up and punched her pillow, hard, her young face contorting in rage.

“I. Don’t. Know,” Theo growled in between thuds.

Aaron winced.

-

“What do you mean you don’t know what’s wrong?” Alex was confused, “And careful with that pillow, your mom made it for me.”

“Sorry,” Philip unclenched his fists guiltily, flopping down on his back and staring at the ceiling.

Alex got up from his chair and crossed over to the sofa, nudging Philip’s legs out of the way so he could sit down and hold them in his lap.

“Are you angry at Theo?” he asked, tapping a rhythm against his shins in what he hoped was a soothing way.

“No,” Philip groaned, covering his face with his hands, “I’m angry at me. Cos my stupid brain is fucking everything up.”

Alex chose not to ask for a dollar for the swear jar. He could let this one slide.

“Can you…elaborate?”

“No I can’t that’s the problem!” Philip cried, “I’m an idiot, dad. Everything with Theo’s changed and its all messed up it’s all my fault.”

Alex nodded, trying to look like he understood, “Yeah, you said. So why don’t you start from the beginning? When did everything start…getting fucked up and your brain started feeling ‘like it was on fire’ to use your own words?”

His eldest huffed, sending the handful of hair that had fallen across his face flying. Alex smiled fondly; his hair had always been a cause for concern, ever since he was a baby.

“I know when it changed, I just don’t know what it changed to,” Philip began, like he was in a therapist’s office, “We were just doing our homework over at her house, same as always. And I just kind of looked at her. And, I mean, I don’t know if she’d changed her hair or whatever but she just looked…different. That’s when everything got all fucked up. Everything was fine and then…poof. Fuck.”

Alex tried not to laugh; he knew that wasn’t going to be helpful at all, “Right.”

“And now? It’s like I can’t even look at her without feeling weird!”

-

“It’s like he can’t even look at me,” Theo curled one ringlet of her hair around her finger, like she always did when she was anxious, she’d done that ever since she was a baby. Aaron couldn’t help smiling fondly.

“It’s like he hates me.”

He squeezed her shoulder, “I’m sure that’s not true. He’s your best friend. If the two of you just talked you could get it sorted out.”

“Oh?” Theo snorted, “Have you tried talking to a Hamilton?”

Aaron’s smile soured a little at the corners, “Yes, I have…but this is Philip, not Alexander. If the two of you are struggling then I’m fairly certain he’s as eager to work it out as you are.”

She huffed again, pulling her knees tight to her chest, “Maybe…”

“So…maybe you should call him? Before you tear something to pieces.”

Theo snorted, “I might.”

Aaron nudged her with one finger, grinning conspiratorially, “And if he’s still being an ass? Then I’ll beat him up and we can both flee to Antarctica. We’ll ice fish to survive and ski for entertainment.”

Theo rolled over and smiled at her father, “Yeah, cool. I’d like that…okay I’ll call him.”

Aaron smiled, “Good. That’s my girl.”

-

“So, you were just sat there and…poof,” Alex repeated slowly, trying to understand.

Philip nodded sadly, sighing yet again, leaning against his dad’s shoulder, the only thing stopping him sliding to the floor in despair.

Alex bit his lip, wondering how much he was allowed to say and how much he needed to let his son work out for himself.

“And you can’t think of any reason that maybe your relationship has become…difficult?” he wondered aloud, “Any reason at all?”

Philip sat up, frowning at his dad curiously, aware suddenly that he was missing a point but unable to find it.

“Dad, I don’t understand what you…”

That was when his face froze, his jaw slackening and the colour draining out of his freckled, young face. Like something had hit him in the chest very hard. Alex raised his eyebrows, wondering if he should call for an ambulance.

“Phillip? Buddy…”

After a moment, his son cleared his throat and spoke in a very quiet, shivering voice, “Um, Dad…when did you realised that you…liked mom? I mean…like liked her?”

This time Alex couldn’t keep the slow, warm smile from spreading across his face, “Well, we were friends and she meant a lot to me and one day we were just talking and…poof.”

Philip’s eyes went wide, “Oh. Yeah. Oh God.”

Shaking his head and laughing, Alex pulled his son into a hug, putting a gentle hand on his cloud of hair.

“Pip?” he explained gently, “I think you should give Theo a call.”

“Yeah. Okay,” his son seemed incapable of forming full sentences any more. That was going to make confessing his crush to Theo Burr very interesting, “Okay.”

“That’s my boy,” Alex murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s temple before letting him stagger out of his office, looking completely blindsided…but a little happier than he had when he’d walked in.

That was good enough for Alex.

-

Although they weren’t aware of it, Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton both had the exact same thought at the exact same time.

That they really loved their kids.


	6. 'Can you imagine..."

Alex tugged awkwardly on the lapels of the slightly musty, little bit too small for him dinner jacket he’d found at the back of a thrift store yesterday. He studied himself in the mirror, adjusted the waist of the pants he was wearing, that he really hoped no one at this fancy party would notice were actually black skinny jeans and not dress trousers. For the fifteenth time in as many minutes he wondered about his hair; putting it in a ponytail or a bun felt a little informal but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had it cut and pulling it back would make that fact less noticeable. And he hadn’t shaved he realized in frustration, he looked like a vaudeville villain with his ghost of a goatee. 

Alex was starting to have doubts about this.

 

He’d said it almost without thinking after listening to Eliza stressing for almost forty-five minutes, anxiously bemoaning how she had to go to this fundraising thing her father was throwing in the city, how she was dreading having to dress up and feel all awkward, trying to make conversation with people she didn’t know and none of her sisters could go so she was one her own. Alex had been half listening, half focused on writing up his notes, y’know, like they came to the library to actually do? 

“And him and mama keep dropping all these hints that oh, maybe there’s a nice boy in one of my classes that I’d like to bring along? Like they’re actually being subtle,” she’d huffed in frustration.

That caught Alex’s attention, his dark eyes flickering up to her, any thoughts he’d been having about government processes disappeared like a blown out candle. A boy?

“I mean what am I supposed to say to that? It’s like they’re deliberately trying to make me uncomfortable,” Eliza sighed, “Like I’m going to disappoint them if I don’t turn up to this thing with some painfully boring trust fund college kid in tow, Todd or Brad or some fucking thing like that.” 

Alex had felt his eyes tighten, struck by how wide and scared her eyes were, how she’d been doing that thing where she knotted her fingers together whenever she was really upset. And the words had just kind of fell out of his mouth. 

“It’s okay, I’ll go with you. I mean, if you like?” 

Eliza had blinked, her face surprised, a little confused, “What?”

“I mean,” Alex caught himself hurriedly, back peddling frantically, certain he’d offended her or said something really stupid, “Not like as a date or anything like that, I was only thinking if your parents want you to bring someone then…why not someone you actually like? For support? But you’re right, forget it, it’s a stupid idea, ignore me.”  
Alex had been about to get to his feet and just run for it, go for the door if possible or just throw himself through a window if all else failed. But Eliza stopped him, her voice gentle, touched even.

“You’d do that for me?” she sounded astonished, “You’d put up with a night of hell in my parent’s dungeon of inane political chatter just for me?”

Alex grinned crookedly, trying not to show how relieved he was, “Inane political chatter is my middle name, bud. And yeah, why not? I’m no Wyatt or Brett or whatever but I can smile and nod politely while they tell me about their community gardens and their kid’s soccer team and shit. It could be fun?”

Eliza sighed in relief, throwing her hands up in the air delightedly before leaning in and resting her head on his shoulder briefly, “You are my favourite person, Alexander Hamilton. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Alex laughed, wondering vaguely why having her so close suddenly set the hairs on his arms standing on end, why the scent of her hair made him sit up a little straighter. He put it to the back of his mind. 

“To pay me back you get go get me the strongest coffee that vending machine and the FDA will legally allow you to make,” he nudged her with his shoulder, “There’s no way these notes are getting done without caffeine.”   
Eliza jumped to her feet, giving him a look, raising her eyebrows at the growing pile of empty cups at his elbow, “Okay but it’s your last one. You’re going to start seeing double before long.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex murmured as he watched her walk away, his eyes suddenly unable to turn away from her and back to his work. 

Why had he said that? Why had he done that? 

Alex just frowned and put it to the back of his mind. Along with everything else.

 

“Okay, Alex are you ready to go, the taxi’s…” Eliza began, coming out of her bathroom, but she trailed off when she saw his expression, “Um, are you okay, dude?”

Alex corrected his face as quickly as he could, coughing awkwardly and tearing his eyes away from her dress, black and elegant and hugging her body, a slit in the skirt all the way up to her-

“I’m fine,” he insisted. You’ve seen her in a dress before, what the fuck is wrong with you? “I just…I feel like a bit of an idiot.”

He could see Eliza’s expression in the mirror as he turned away, her face soft and gentle, “You look just fine, Alex, honestly. You look good when you’re not wearing ratty sweatpants and hoodies. I’m liking it a lot.”

He smirked, appreciating the joke,” Why thank you. I think. You look amazing though.” 

“Aw, thank you,” she twitched the edge of the rather elaborate lacy ribbon that held her dress up, “Apparently a button down and jeans weren’t appropriate for this gig, according to my mom. So I had to step it up a bit.” 

“A bit?” he raised his eyebrows, ‘I’ll say. I’m going to look like a scarecrow standing next to you.”

Eliza scoffed, coming up beside him and nudging his side with her elbow. “A very kind and thoughtful scarecrow that was nice enough to come to this hideously stressful party with me. I’ll take that,” she corrected him firmly, “Now come on, the taxi will be here any minute.” 

Alex rolled his eyes and followed her to the door willingly. Maybe this was going to be okay after all.

 

Alex could see why Eliza had been dreading the thought of this party, it was a lot of conversation and networking and small talk, all stuff he knew his best friend hates. He however, was finding himself in his element. Even dressed in second hand clothes and with hair that would make most of these ‘liberal’ city types cross the street to avoid passing him on the sidewalk, Alex’s disarming charisma was working in his favour. Within ten minutes he’d neatly dodged a searching question about his family and instead launched into a monologue of his thoughts on the current economic policy, winning him appreciative nods from the surrounding people. Eliza wound her arm through his and winked surreptitiously, not leaving his side all night. 

But neither of them was prepared when some distant cousin of Eliza’s smiled at both of them and asked innocently, “You two make a lovely couple. How did you meet again, Catherine never said?”

Alex was in the middle of a sip of his wine and had to work very, very hard to stop himself doing a spit take all over the six people standing in front of him. He was stammering and nearly choking, casting about for something to say to that when Eliza said something that floored him completely. 

“We met at a party actually. Our friend’s birthday party,” she answered smoothly, like it was nothing. 

“Oh really?” The Schuyler whose name Alex had already forgotten prompted. 

Eliza continued without even pausing, managing to smile and lean into Alex affectionately, exactly like a smitten young college girl talking about how she met her boyfriend would, “Oh, well you’ve heard how he can go on, all I asked was what course he was doing and we were chatting away for hours, nearly all night! Next thing I knew we were getting coffee in the morning, making plans for study sessions and movies to see, we had so much in common. When he asked me out, saying yes just felt like the most natural thing in the world.”

Alex’s jaw was on the floor, looking at Eliza like she was a stranger. She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye and he quickly gathered himself. 

“Thank god for that, I was so nervous,” he grinned; trying to act abashed but pleased, “You know I’d been working up the nerve for days, right?”

“Oh shut up,” Eliza’s smile was delighted and looked as real as anything, “You never get nervous.”

“Yeah I thought so too,” he shot back, teasingly, “Till I met you.”

The surrounding audience sighed and awwed appreciatively and prompted them further. Before either Alex or Eliza knew quite what was going on, they had an entire future planned, an entire loving relationship sprang out of nowhere. It was like some bizarre improvised comedy sketch; they tried not to meet each other’s eyes or they’d both dissolve into bewildered giggles. It all came so close to breaking apart when Alex leaned over and kissed Eliza’s cheek swiftly, affectionately, but they just about managed to keep it together.

Eventually, mercifully, the subject was changed but not before they’d covered the fact that yes, they were planning to get married after graduation, they’d probably move into an apartment in the city, though of course they’d find a bigger place once the children started coming along, somewhere uptown. 

Once they were finally free, Alex felt Eliza’s hand on his arm squeeze gratefully. Alex winked back at her and tried not to think about how easy it was to pretend that he loved Eliza, that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. 

How it didn’t even feel like pretending by the end. 

 

“Oh my God, I am so, so sorry about that,” Eliza gasped once they’d finally made their excuses and escaped into the cold night air, “That was a disaster.”

Alex gave in to the laughter that had been threatening him for hours, “What the fuck possessed you to say yes?”

“I don’t know,” Eliza moaned, burying her blushing face in her hands, “I just knew if I said no then Kitty would be pestering us all night about why we weren’t a couple and she’d never let it go. I panicked, okay?”

Alex put his arm around her bare shoulders; he could see she was starting to shiver in the cold. 

“I am so unbelievably sorry,” Eliza sighed again, leaning into his touch, “You were great though. Thanks for covering my stupid ass.”

Alex smirked, though he looked away, “No problem, love. Although I will say you’re mad if you think we’re getting a cat instead of a dog when we move into that uptown brownstone.”

Eliza smirked and looked incredulous, “Well, you’re sorely mistaken if you think we’re having two boys. I’m not dealing with two of your bigheaded, arrogant spawn. One is enough thanks, the rest will definitely be girls.”

The two of them sniggered conspiratorially as they made their way through the evening, having to cling to each other to keep from falling to the ground. Though as they stood on the curb, waiting to cross the street, a pause started to grow between them. Awkwardness hit them both simultaneously as they realized that Eliza hadn’t let go of Alex’s hand, despite the fact that their fake relationship had supposedly been left behind at the party. Neither of them had realized. Like they’d both just forgot that this was all a game.

The touch came to an abrupt end, both of them pulling their hands back like they’d been electrified. Alex ducked his eyes. Eliza shuffled her feet. 

“Like that would ever happen,” she joked, breaking the silence.

Alex gave her a slightly strained smile, “Can you imagine? What a catastrophe.” 

The two of them giggled nervously and just kept on walking, both of them pushing the feelings that rose up in them to the back of their minds.

As if she’d go for someone like you, Alex admonished himself in a low, angry growl, swallowing back the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat, Don’t be an idiot.

As if he’d go for someone like you, Eliza thought sadly.


	7. "She's beautiful, isn't she..."

“Alexander? Are you okay?” Eliza laughed tiredly.

“Course. I’m fine,” her husband replied though his voice was thick and breaking with tears, his face shining wetly under the harsh lights in the hospital room, his eyes never leaving the face of their newborn daughter in his arms.

Eliza smiled fondly, not really feeling the pain or exhaustion beyond the happiness, pulling the blanket tighter around her, resting her head on her arms so she could still see the two of them even lying down. Her Alex had been crying for the past forty minutes like he just couldn’t stop, whether it was exhaustion or joy or relief or the fact that the baby they’d been waiting nine months to meet was a little girl.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Eliza sighed in wonder. Seven times she’d been through this and she still wasn’t used to it, it still startled her, the strange clarity and sharpness of this moment. The calm after the storm of pain and confusion, when it all fell away and they were left with this pause, this stillness. She just shut everything else and made the most of it, just her and her Alex and her daughter.

Alex nodded, opening his mouth as if to speak but it was like the words were stuck. Or there just won’t words for what he was feeling. He just gazed down at their youngest, only their second daughter out of seven kids, searching her slightly frowning face for what was his and what was Eliza’s, just marveling at all the possibilities and promise she held. He took a shaking breath, trying to get a hold of himself.

“Thank you,” Alex murmured, freeing one hand and reaching over to take his wife’s hand, desperate to hold her but scared to hurt or jostle the baby girl sleeping in the crook of his arm. Her finger’s slid between his, perfectly matching the bruises starting to flower on his hands, the one’s she’d left there over the twenty eight hours it had taken her to bring their daughter into the world. Alex wouldn’t be doing much writing for a few weeks but he didn’t even flinch as Eliza returned his grip.

“Seriously, thank you so much. For her. For everything,” he managed, haltingly.

“You did your part,” Eliza joked, with a short bark of laugher but the look in her eyes told him that she understood what he was trying to say.

She looked at him, really looked at Alexander. 

The shadows under his eyes were alarming, he looked so drawn and tired and there was a little edge of sadness in his expression that she didn’t think was ever going to go away, it was just part of him now. She was sure she had one to match. But the deep rooted love that shone in his dark eyes, that was what held her attention, what made her certain that all of the difficult decisions she’d made over the last few years had been the right ones.

Alex looked away first, like he was scared to hold her searching gaze too long, like how much he loved her in that moment actually hurt him.

“We finally managed another girl,” Alex noted with a chuckle, after the two of them had sat quietly for a moment, the baby’s every snuffle and yawn taking their breath away.

“Angie’s going to be so happy,” Eliza agreed, running her thumb across Alex’s palm comfortingly.

“Her name suits her,” Alex murmured after a while, tearing his eyes away from his daughter’s sleeping face to wink at his wife.

Eliza rolled her eyes, tilting her head and studying the baby in his arms, trying to apply her own name to this delicate, perfect little thing. It felt…strange.

“Do you think so?” she asked, looking at Alex curiously, he who’d had nearly fourteen years of experience having one of their children named after him.

He looked at her, his expression softening to the verge of tears, “She’s named after the best woman in the world, Eliza. I do think so.”

Eliza was trying to figure out how she was going to sit up and pull Alex in for a kiss without causing her aching body too much pain when Alex’s phone flared to life on the bedside table. He glanced at it, a crooked smile growing on his face.

“It’s Pip, he and Theo and Angie and AJ are in the waiting room,” Alex said, glancing up at Eliza, “What do you say? You up to a hurricane?”

Eliza laughed, “Bring it on.”

Alex smiled as his three eldest kids came crashing through the door of the delivery room, followed slightly more respectfully by Theo Burr who was essentially his child at this point. They crowded around Alex’s chair, their eyes wide and faces delighted at the sight of their new sister.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, finally!” Angie yell-whispered, kneeling at her dad’s feet, her eyes wide and sparkling, bouncing on her heels excitedly., “I have a sister you guys!”

“And she’s perfect!” Philip agreed, looking over Alex’s shoulder, grinning hugely. “Great job you guys!” he crowed, punching his dad gently in the arm, who snorted with laughter.

“What are you saying that to him for?” AJ sniffed, on his dad’s other side, reaching down and patting his new sister’s head wondrously, “Mom’s the one who did all the work.”

“Thank you AJ,” Eliza laughed, her heart feeling like it was going to burst at the sight of her family, tears threatening her.

“Are you feeling okay?” Theo asked, perching on the edge of the bed and resting one hand on Eliza’s shoulder.

Eliza smiled fondly at the Burr girl’s quiet consideration, patting her slim hand gratefully, “Physically? Terrible. Emotionally? Perfect.”

Her kids laughed appreciatively and Alex winced sympathetically, his grip on her fingers tightening.

“Can I hold her?” Angie asked, studying little baby Eliza like she was trying to perfectly memorize every detail of her face.

“No way, dude, I’m the oldest, I get first hold. That’s the rules,” Philip interrupted indignantly.

As a familiar and welcome Hamilton family argument erupted into life around them, Alex’s eyes found Eliza’s and they both smiled, each seeing their own joy reflected in the other’s face.

They’d been through a lot recently. More then either of them had thought they’d survive. But they had.

And it was going to be okay.


	8. "I just wanted him to listen..."

Eliza Hamilton had actually learnt to get more worried when her kids fell quiet than when they were making a racket. And right now, the usual cacophony of shouts and crashes emanating from the kitchen, the ones she was familiar with had died and the entire house had screeched into dead silence.

Which meant something was very, very wrong.

Eliza and Alex’s eyes met across the living room, him looking up from his book, Eliza from her cross-stitch, both looking equally panicked. Alex nodded towards the kitchen door, questioningly. Eliza chewed on her bottom lip, considering, before raising an eyebrow. Alex narrowed his eyes. They did this a lot, having full discussions without actually ever opening their mouths.

Their noiseless conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of their eldest, crashing through the dining room, stomping like he was either making a point or trying to stamp his way through the floorboards, his usually relaxed face clouded and tight and stormy.

“Hey-“ Eliza began, making to rise out of her chair but Philip was gone in an instant; his parents could hear his pounding footsteps up the stairs and the crash of his door slamming.

Alex broke the silence, “Philip? What the fuck was that about?”

“Language,” Eliza said vaguely, on automatic but she was distracted, frowning at the door their son had just stormed through, “But yeah. Something’s definitely wrong.”

“Think he needs a minute?” her husband guessed, sounding very worried.

Eliza nodded, happy to note that seven kids down and he was finally learning to give them some space when they were upset instead of trying to force love and comfort on them like he used to, back when he refused to believe that there was any problem his hugs couldn’t solve for them.

“Yeah,” Eliza squared her shoulders and started towards the kitchen, “Lets go solve the mystery.”

“Right behind you,” Alex sighed, tossing his book over his shoulder. He’d managed a whole three pages worth of peace.

Eliza could have guessed before she’d even walked in the kitchen, before she saw her third oldest child sitting hunched over at the table, his face twisted in barely controlled fury, that it would involve AJ somehow. He’d been accurately named, her little boy, he was an awful lot like his father. A little too much. He’d inherited his father’s sense of humour that often left people storming off in anger or else swinging for his face. Eliza saw a lot of black eyes in her son’s future.

He and his older brother were always clashing; swapping sharp comments like they were fencing but it had never actually meant anything. It had certainly never meant so much that it left Philip, cool, easy-going Philip, looking so incensed. 

“Okay what happened?” Eliza asked plainly, standing in the middle of the room and folding her arms.

All of a sudden her children were avoiding her gaze, suddenly finding the cutlery in their hands or their shoes or the ceiling incredibly interesting. AJ curled up in a tight little ball like a hedgehog, like if he made himself small enough he could avoid this whole situation.

Alex leaned against the counter, his courtroom voice making an appearance, “Answer your mother, Alexander. Now.”

“I was only messing around. I didn’t think he’d get his pants in a knot over it,” AJ muttered darkly, unable to look at either of his parents, “I didn’t think he’d…I wasn’t trying to…”

Over by the sink, Angie slammed the glass she’d been drying down on the counter hard, glaring at her brother, “You took it too far AJ, you know you did.”

“Who asked you?” AJ bristled, immediately, his dark eyes fixing on his sister, blazing.

Angie’s hackles raised, “Well, if you’re just going to out and out lie, you-“

“Enough!” Alex and Eliza spoke in unison, their voices silencing their bickering children in an instant.

Jamie took the opportunity to gather up his younger siblings hurriedly and steer them out of the room. Eliza nodded at him as he shot a worried glance over his shoulder. Then she raised an eyebrow at Angie, waiting patiently. Her oldest daughter wrinkled her nose, frustrated, but after a few moments she caved and followed her siblings, leaving AJ cringing under his parents’ eyes.

“Alexander,” she crossed the room and sat opposite her boy, who’d shrunk back into himself, looking scared and small and ready to lash out, “Come on,” she prompted him, firm but gentle.

AJ forced himself to look at his mother and he quailed under her gaze, not angry, not stern, just open and patient and ready to listen.

“Look, I know what I said about Theo wasn’t very fair but I wasn’t trying to upset him, I just wanted him to listen, I mean I don’t know why he got so upset,” the words were falling out of him now in a rapid, desperate rush like he couldn’t control them, “I was just trying to get a reaction out of him, he’s been so…I mean why does he care even, it’s not like he’s going to be around much longer, it’s not like he’s…he’s really part of this family any more, I mean…I mean he’s leaving for God’s sake.”

AJ looked horrified and he shut up quickly. Eliza tilted her head, her mouth pressing into a hard line. Behind her, she felt Alex shift and tense.

There it was.

Philip’s college acceptance letter had arrived last week. Of course everyone had been so happy for him, of course there’d been hugs and tears and AJ had ruffled his brother’s curls and teased him that he was such a nerd. But ever since then there’d been a kind of tension between the two of them, he’d been needling his brother even more than usual.

And know they knew why.

“Sweetheart,” Eliza sighed gently, reaching over and taking AJ’s hand, “Just because Philip’s moving away, it doesn’t mean he’s not…he’s not going to forget about you. You know that, right? It’ll be okay.”

AJ squirmed uncomfortably, his hand limp in his mom’s but like he had to work hard to keep himself from holding on tightly.

“I’m just…I’m just going to miss him,” he murmured after a long moment. 

Alex was beside his son in an instant, his hand squeezing his shoulder.

“There’s better ways of doing that then picking fights with him, buddy,” he explained gently, “You just need to talk to him.”

AJ looked dismayed at the very thought and Eliza had to smile helplessly at her poor, emotionally crippled son, who only knew how to communicate difficult feelings through sarcastic insults. He was a Hamilton, after all.

“Go and talk to him,” Eliza prompted, “Actually talk to him. And apologise for what you said. Please?”

AJ opened his mouth, about to protest desperately, to plead for a less painful punishment like the rack or white-hot irons in his eye sockets. But Eliza refused to budge, shaking her head firmly, trying not to laugh at Alex who was struggling not to giggle behind their son’s back.

Eventually Eliza hauled AJ out of the kitchen and he reluctantly went to go and swallow his pride. Once they were alone, Alex succumbed to his laugher, having to hold on to the chair to stop himself hitting the ground. Eliza smacked his arm playfully, struggling not to laugh herself.

“Come on, shape up! We’re supposed to be responsible parents here!” she protested.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Alex tried to get a hold on himself, “God, I feel like I need to apologise for my genetics, honey, that’s all me.”

“I know that!” Eliza laughed, “Poor kid…”

After a while, Alex quietened and he looked upwards at the ceiling nervously.

“It will be okay won’t it? I hate it when they fight.”

Eliza smiled and hugged her husband, leaning her head against his chest.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Eliza was right, she usually was


	9. "She hadn't expected it to feel like this..."

Eliza didn’t feel much like moving. She didn’t feel like doing much of anything. She just sat at Angelica’s kitchen table, a cup of coffee quickly going cold in her hands, staring straight ahead at nothing, listening to the ringing in her ears. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this. Not that Eliza had ever thought she’d have to go through this. Not that she’d ever done anything but trust her husband, believing every beautiful word he’d given her, taking the fact that he loved her more than anything, the way she loved him, as absolute truth.  
But she hadn’t expected it to be like this. When he’d first told her, when he’d stood before her shaking and crying and confessed what he’d done, she’d found a kind of fierce and furious anger inside her that she hadn’t understood. She’d bowed to it; let it turn her voice into a roar and her hands into claws and her eyes into dark fire, let it drive her to burn and tear and scream. But then it had died so quickly and she’d been left with nothing but…well, nothing.

She’d been at Angelica’s apartment for the past few weeks. She just couldn’t face him, the home they shared together, covered with the smudges and marks of their many years together that had apparently meant nothing to him. And her children. Their children. God she loved them, she missed them so much it was a physical throbbing in her chest, but every time Philip would bring them over to Angelica’s to see her, the younger ones hanging off her with their eyes wide and scared, knowing something was very wrong with mommy and daddy but not quite what, all she saw in them was him.

So she was hiding at her sister’s. Moving through the days with very little recognition of what was actually happening to her, not wanting to even get out of bed, to dress or wash or speak to anyone or do anything. Everything just felt so pointless, so transient, like she was made of smoke and everything just passed right through her. Like she was six feet underground and all of the things she’d loved had become only muffled noises.

And the worst part? She was doing this all to herself. She’d taken six steps back from everything and everyone because God only knew what would happen to her if she didn’t.

She just couldn’t take another heartbreak.

“Eliza?”

Eliza blinked, like she was waking up from a dream. Angelica was calling her. She knew she’d never be able to repay her sister for everything she’d done for her in the past few weeks, so much more than just letting her sleep in her spare room. But even Angelica couldn’t reach Eliza right now, no matter how hard she tried, how many times she tried to get her to talk, to do anything other than cry and curl in a ball on the couch. A part of Eliza that could still feel things watched this all from far away, wringing its hands in despair, knowing that if Angelica couldn’t help her then she was far, far beyond any help at all.

She couldn’t keep living like this. But she couldn’t do anything else.

“Eliza! Eliza, please, look at me, we have to go-“

Eliza shook her head to try and clear it. Angelica sounded…scared. Frightened. Her sister never got scared.

Suddenly, Angelica’s hand was on Eliza, pulling her to her feet, her fingers tight on her arm. For the first time in a while, Eliza actually looked at her sister. Her eyes were red and wide and frantic, her mouth a hard and nervous line.

“Wha-“ Eliza tried to speak, getting the very strong sense that something was wrong.

“Eliza, honey, we need to leave right now, we need to go to the hospital,” Angelica’s voice was shaking.

“Why?” Eliza murmured, barely aware of what was going on but certain that she really, really didn’t want to know the answer.

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry but…it’s Philip. He collapsed on the way to school this morning. He’s in the hospital, they’re running tests-“

Oh, Eliza thought softly, her skin turning pale, her hands starting to tremble, oh please God no.

-

Eliza was running through the hospital corridors, not caring who was looking at her, barely registering her own dizziness, paying no attention to Angelica behind her, calling for her to be careful, to wait, to hang on. From the minute the receptionist had said what room her son was in Eliza had cared about nothing else but getting there as fast as humanly possible.

All the while her heartbeat steadily increased, her breathing became more difficult as she realized in horror that no one was stopping her to tell her this was some sick joke, that someone had made a mistake, that Philip was actually fine.

She threw the door back and it took all her strength not to crumble to the floor instantly. He looked sick. Very, very sick. Her boy was lying there in the hospital bed, looking so much smaller than he actually was, his skin so pale it was almost translucent, his face, usually so animated and alive, was slack. Only the restless, painful looking tremors in his chest told that he was even still alive. Feeling like she was falling, she moved to his side and seized his hand, collapsing into the chair next to the bed.

“Oh God, Philip…” she moaned, despairingly, running her thumb over that familiar scar on the palm of his hand from when he’d grabbed her straighteners as a baby, feeling the roughness, blistery texture of his fingers from where he was writing, always writing, like he couldn’t stop. Just like…

“Eliza?”

She froze, her head snapping up to the other side of the bed, her eyes finding his like a magnet was drawing them. She hadn’t even noticed him; she’d been so focused on Philip.

Alexander.

His face had been all over the news since he’d written that goddamn article. The Treasury Secretary of the United States had an affair of course it was all anyone had been talking about. Eliza had tried to find some kind of vindictive pleasure in how stressed he looked in the clips, the way people like Madison and the Prime Minister made thinly veiled insults about him, the way Jefferson’s lip curled as he leaned into the microphone and slyly remarked “Well, he’s never going to be President now, is he?” But she’d just felt sick and empty, turning off the TV before she’d have to see his face or hear his name again.

He looked so much worse now he was in front of her. The permanent circles under his eyes had tuned into bruises, his eyes themselves were bloodshot and hazy, and their usual brightness had died. His hair was hanging lank out of his usual ponytail, in a dark and tangled cloud around his drawn face, and he’d missed a lot of places shaving, all the places she’d normally point out to him. Back when they slept in the same bed, when they were part of each other’s lives.

He’d obviously been crying.

“Eliza, I…” his voice cracked and snapped painfully as he tried to speak and faded before he could actually say anything. He had no words, not for Eliza. His words had done more than enough damage to his wife.

“What happened?” Eliza asked, her voice high and stressed and clipped, turning back to Philip, unable to look at him anymore, “What’s wrong with him?”

Alex sighed deeply, more sadness in his voice than Eliza had ever heard, “They…they don’t know. He’s just really, really sick.”

He began to cry again, his muscles constricting and shoulders shaking, his head falling into his hands. Eliza still had that deep-rooted instinct, the need to cross over to him and hold him in her arms while he cried, to be held by him in turn, to face this together like they used to.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t even look at him.

-

The next few days were tough.

Philip had meningitis, the doctor told the two terrified, lost parents after a few hours, giving them no solace but a name for what was killing their son. He needed medication, a lot of it, an IV drip, to be kept under because he couldn’t breathe on his own.

And time. Time was the only thing that was going to save him.

And so Eliza found herself barricaded in a tiny room, twenty four hours a day, with the man who’d broken her heart, the man she’d gone from loving with all her heart and soul and speaking with every single day to being unable to look him in the eyes and hear his voice without flinching.

She wondered what exactly she’d done to deserve this.

Angelica took care of the other kids, who were obviously distraught; watching over them while their parents sat in stony silence and counted their son’s heartbeats on the monitor, praying that there would always be another one. They sat numb and nearly unmoving on the uncomfortable hospital chairs, ignoring the meaning of the phrase ‘visiting hours’, living off fear and the sound of their son’s struggling breaths and cups of coffee from the ancient vending machine out in the corridor. Every so often Alex would open his mouth as if he was going to say something, Eliza would let her eyes flicker to him for the barest of seconds, and they’d both tense. But then no words would come. They’d both settle back into the fog of anxiety and stress they were both lost in, no torchlight or safety in sight.

Eliza snuck glances at her husband every so often, searching for some solution, some answer to the mountain of problems they had. He’d always had the answers, he’d always been so confident. But now he was as lost as she was.

Eliza could feel him falling apart right across from her and she knew fine well why. She’d sat with him and held him as he’d battled countless anxiety attacks over their children’s health, over her own health, cried with him the whole miserable story of his mother’s sudden death, the day everyone who loved him as a child left him alone and scared. She knew that every time he watched someone he loved ill or sick, he was catapulted back to that day. And now his eldest son was desperately ill and all he could do was watch in horror.

Eliza was watching two members of her family fade away in front of her eyes. And she just didn’t know what to do.

Eliza could scarcely bear to take her eyes away from Philip’s sleeping face, terrified that it wouldn’t be there anymore when she turned back. But sometimes it all just got too much, being so close to Alexander and Philip that the whirring of the machines keeping him from the brink of death.

So she spent a lot of time sat out in the corridor but at least she wasn’t alone. She had Theo Burr.

Eliza had always really loved Theo Burr, she’d thought of her as a daughter since she and her son were best friends all the way back in kindergarten. No one in the Hamilton house had been anything but relieved when they’d finally given in to each others awkward mutual crush a few years ago and started going out. And in the last few weeks Theo had become even more invaluable, an even more important part of Eliza’s life when the skinny but sweet little nineteen year old apparently appointed herself the unofficial bodyguard of the entire family against Alexander. Eliza had found herself having some very long conversations with this girl she’d known since she was a baby in Aaron Burr’s arms, who found she could be a lot more open with, who she could tell things she could never admit to her family she’d always feel she had to be strong for. Theo, her eyes so wise and much older than the rest of her, had just nodded thoughtfully and hugged her unflinchingly, letting Eliza just fall apart.

But now they were both falling apart. But they had each other.

Theo came every available moment she had, simply moving between school, her home and the hospital. She was equally as scared and sad and stressed but Eliza couldn’t put into words how glad she was that she was there.

They were sat outside, still in the harsh, white light flowing through the hospital doors, both of them just glad to breathe air that didn’t taste of antiseptic and sickness. Eliza had her hand in Theo’s; their fingers threaded together, each of them acting as the other’s anchor.

“Are you okay?” Theo eventually asked, her voice hoarse and misting into the cold night air, “I mean with…Alexander and everything.”

Eliza had the strange desire to laugh. This poor young girl, who was watching her boyfriend struggle with a life threatening illness, who by all laws of nature should be getting comforted by Eliza, was reaching out to her and asking if she was okay, ready to be the strong one. What kind of a mother was Eliza turning into? She didn’t feel like herself any more.

“That’s the least of my worries right now,” Eliza sighed heavily, squeezing Theo’s long fingers, “But you’re sweet to ask.”

Theo looked at Eliza, watching her carefully, “You’re spending 24 hours incarcerated with the dick that cheated on you, Eliza, that can’t be easy.”

The humor fell a little flat, they were both so tired but Eliza appreciated it all the same.

Eliza gnawed on her lower lip, words rising up in her that she really didn’t want to face but there they were all the same. Theo just tilted her head and waited.

“Is it strange that I’m glad he’s here?” Eliza muttered, her voice low.

“No. No its not,” Theo replied in a small voice, “It makes a lot of sense.”

“Is it strange that I want to…to help him? He’s really, really suffering,” Eliza’s voice broke a little, “You know…because of his mother.”

Theo knew about Alex’s mother. She hugged herself and nodded, her face set grimly. She knew all about it.

“You want to help everyone, Eliza,” she sighed, “Even if it means you have to sacrifice stuff. That’s just who you are.” 

Eliza gave her a tight, sorrowful smile as her eyes brimmed over.

“I just…it all just feels so pointless. I can’t believe my son is fighting for his life and two days ago all I cared about what my own marriage,” Eliza felt the tears begin to run down her face, her already raw skin stung painfully. She pushed a hand through her unwashed hair, taking a shaky breath.

Theo didn’t really have anything to say to that, she just leaned against Eliza as she began to sob, just letting her know she was there. It was more than enough.

“He’s lucky to have you,” Eliza said, reaching up to stroke the bouncy curls of the young girl who was so scared but managing to be so brave, “I…I’m so glad you have each other.”

Theo managed a smile. Because it was true. She cared about Philip so much and it was causing her pain right now, so much worry and anxiety, but every moment she’d spent with him was more than worth it.

That was what love was, she guessed.

Eliza stayed with Theo until Aaron came to pick her up, watching as she went reluctantly.

Then she sighed, watching her breath materialize and fade to nothing in the dark. She tuned back towards the hospital doors.

Alex really needed to sleep. His whole body was vibrating, trembling with tension and stress and adrenaline, his eyes wide and frantic and fixed on their son’s face.

Eliza returned to her post in the chair on the opposite side of the bed to her husband, watching him carefully, letting her eyes stay on his face and really see it, in a way that would have been impossible a week ago. He looked like he was about to break.

“The doctor said they might be able to bring him round tomorrow morning,” Alex croaked, not realizing that she was watching him, “He’s responding well to the antibiotics.”

Hope. Eliza could taste it, something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time.

“Alexander?” she whispered, his name familiar on her lips, the sound of it bringing back memories of comfort and safety.

He flinched at the sound, his neck snapping up, shocked. She’d said his whole name, without malice, without sadness.

Something in Alex broke open and the tide of words crashed out of him.

“Eliza…Eliza, I can’t lose him. I can’t lose anyone else and have it be my fault,” he choked out miserably.

“Your fault?” Eliza repeated, not understanding, “How is this…”

Alex’s face twisted in grief, “Of course its my fault Eliza, everything fucking is. Everything I touch just fucking burns, I can’t love anyone without hurting them because I’m an awful person. I did it to my mom, I did it to you and…and now I’ve done it to my kids. My kids, Eliza.”

“Alex, no…” Eliza whispered but it was like he couldn’t hear her.

“I ruined everything Eliza and I’m so, so sorry, please. I know I have no goddamn right to say that to you, I have no right to ask you for forgiveness but…I’m just sorry. Please believe me, of I could…if I could trade his life for mine, if I could…” His voice trailed off into a desperate gasp, his eyes unable to tear away from Eliza’s.

Eliza knew why she’d been hiding from him for the past weeks. Because if she let him talk, if she let him pour himself out to her then there was the possibility that she’d forgive him and that idea had repelled her, had felt sickening and poisonous. She’d wanted to stay angry.

But Eliza was tired. She was tired of feeling angry, of having this weight on her shoulders. In that moment, she made her decision, the one she hadn’t even realized that she’d been putting off, the one that had been living in the back of her mind. She’d thought she hadn’t been left with a choice, she thought she’d just lost Alexander completely. That she’d been given anger and bitterness and sadness and she had no choice to take it.

But she did have a choice. And she made her decision in that moment, looking into her Alexander’s sad, scared eyes.

She reached over the bed and took his hand in her’s. 

“Alex, its okay. I promise, it’s okay,” she said quietly, holding him tight, “It’s okay.”

Alexander looked at her in disbelief, just shocked for a moment. And then he crumpled completely, broke and dissolved into wracking sobs, so overwhelmed he could do nothing but cry in relief and astonishment, elation and sorrow.

Eliza staggered to her feet, moving quickly to his side and all but collapsing against him. He moved and slide his arms around her and for the longest time all they did was cling to each other desperately, holding each other tightly as the storm raged.

This was beyond anything either of them could have imagined. But here it was, real and true in their hands.

And it was going to be okay.

-

Both Alex and Eliza were thinking the same thing, though neither of them actually said it out loud.

They were both remembering the morning after Philip was born, after they both became parents for the first time. They’d just sat together on the hospital bed, Eliza leaning against Alex just like she was now, gazing in wonder and joy into the bassinet that contained their newborn son, staggered by how uncomplicatedly, simply happy they were.

That happiness was long gone, replaced by an emotion that neither of them really had a name for yet. Bit it wasn’t grief and it wasn’t sadness and that wound do for now.

Philip had woken up a few times, muttering things that didn’t make sense, his eyes darting about in confusion but Eliza had stroked his hair and Alex had murmured comforting words to him until he’d settled, like their son was nine months rather than nineteen years old.

But now he was really awake, sat up and talking and here and real and alive and it was beyond amazing. He was even managing to smile, propped up on the pillows, that crooked smile he’d inherited from Alex, that his parents had genuinely believed they’d never see again.

Philip was going to be okay.

Once they’d explained what had happened, why he was missing a good few days worth of memory, Philip narrowed his eyes at his parents, studying them carefully as they sat in adjacent chairs, their legs pressed against each other, their hands joined in Eliza’s lap, Alex’s arm around her.

“Wait,” Philip croaked, his voice weak with disuse, “Wait are you two…? Hang on…”

Eliza gnawed on her bottom lip. This was going to be difficult to explain.

But Alex interjected, shifting forward to put his hand on his eldest son’s shoulder.

“You really need to rest up, Pip,” he said firmly, gently, “But, yeah, we’ll…explain once you’ve had a bit more sleep.”

Philip raised one eyebrow, managing to look sardonic even as sick as he was. But he let it lie, gingerly squirming back into a prone position.

“Okay, whatever,” he murmured drowsily, “On one condition.”

“Oh?” Eliza smirked. It felt odd to smile again but…it was nice.

“I want Theo here when I wake up,” Philip asked, his eyes softening, “Please?”

Eliza smiled, feeling warmth in her chest, “Okay. We can do that.”

Philip grinned again, finally closing his eyes willingly, his curls falling over his face like they always did. Alex’s hand squeezed Eliza’s as they watched their precious son.

“You know?” Philip piped up on last time; “I’ll have to nearly die more often, if that’s what it takes to get you two back together again.”

Alex gave a short bark of laughter and Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Pip,” Alex groaned, fondly.

Eliza rested her head on her husband’s shoulder, felt his lips press against her head as she closed her exhausted eyes.

She hadn’t expected it to feel like this.


	10. "You deserve to be happy..."

There were a lot of things Angie Hamilton liked about Marty (Martha Jefferson to pretty much anyone who wasn’t Angie; only she was allowed to use that nickname). Well, she’d had a crush on the girl since she was ten; of course there were a lot of things she liked about her.

But what she liked most was how brave she was, how nothing seemed to faze her, how even in the face of something terrifying she could simply straighten her back and raise an eyebrow, as if daring it to try. But Marty would always remember to reach out and take Angie’s hand, who’d usually be stood shaking beside her. That hand, that simple touch had helped her face a lot and stay standing.

She was going to need that hand today, Angie thought miserably as they walked up to the Hamilton front door. She’d never thought the prospect of dinner with her family would scare her so much.

“You okay?” Marty’s voice was quiet, it always was but Angie thought it had a kind of lyricism in it, like every word out of her mouth was poetry.

“Yep. Yep, I’m fine,” Angie was hugging herself, tense and uneasy like she was anticipating an attack.

“It’s just your family,” Marty reached out and put a hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, “You’ve already told me practically everything about them and they sound great.”

Angie’s mouth twisted, “Yeah but it’s…you know. My dad.”

Marty gave a small sigh, her breath misting in the evening air. Alexander Hamilton always seemed to be the problem, especially if her father was to be believed.

“Look…I’m not my dad, just like you’re not yours. We’re us. He’ll have to see that,” she said, managing to sound more confident than she felt, “It’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Angie nodded, suddenly feeling bravery flood through her like electricity with that simple utterance of us. They were an ‘us’.

She found herself reaching for the doorknob before she lost the nerve, “I know. It’ll be fine.”

Falling for a Jefferson had been one of the worst and best decisions Angelica Hamilton had ever made. Ever since that night on the school steps after debate club, when they’d both shyly confessed that they liked each other and shared a first, nervous but sweet kiss, it was like her life actually made sense. Like she’d been stumbling through the dark until then but now someone had handed her a flashlight. Last night she’d been lying in Marty’s arms on her sofa while Mr. Jefferson was out, her fingers running through her hair and she’d felt…happy. So uncomplicatedly and deliriously happy. She’d craned her neck back, not caring about the ache, to look at Marty’s face, her deep eyes and warm smile and the smattering of freckles across her nose. Angie had never wanted to close her eyes again.

Which made their incompatible surnames even more of a kick in the teeth. Now Angie understood how fucking Romeo and Juliet felt.

Every time Angie walked into the kitchen to see her dad sat at the kitchen table, angrily bouncing his leg and ranting to her mom about ‘that fucking asshat Jefferson’ or out in the hallway, meekly apologizing to Grandpa Washington over the phone for whatever argument he and Jefferson had had that day, she’d think that maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

But it couldn’t be a mistake. Nothing that felt like this could be a mistake, surely?

So they’d been sneaking around, like they were in one of the worst romance movies ever, not even letting on to their fathers that they were friends. Angie had actually had to shimmy down the tree just outside Marty’s window one night when Mr. Jefferson came home earlier than expected, a rather abrupt end to date night.

There had been one terrifying moment a week ago when Eliza had found out. They thought she’d been at work, they’d thought the house had been empty. But all of a sudden Eliza was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open at the sight of her daughter, stealing a swift tea flavored kiss from Marty sat on the counter, seeing everything before the two girls sprang apart. One long slow, sickening second had passed when Angie had honestly thought she’d lost everything that had made her life worth living. She’d seriously felt her heart break in her chest as she’d stammered and spluttered, desperately trying to think of something to say to fix this.

But then her mom, her lovely, wonderful mom had simply shook herself, smiled and approached the stranger who’d just a moment ago been kissing her daughter, who she hadn’t even known was gay, holding out her hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize Angie had a guest. I don’t think we’ve met before, it’s wonderful to meet you,” she’d gripped an astounded Marty’s hand.

“Um…Martha…Martha…Jefferson,” the last word had been a nervous, anxious whisper.

Eliza had bitten her lip for the briefest of moments but then the smile was back, her eyes a little softer now and a short laugh, “I suddenly feel the need to apologise to you then, for the grief my husband’s undoubtedly caused you. But it really is lovely to meet you. Honest.”

Angie and Marty had laughed a little nervously, though they felt themselves start to relax a little.

Once Marty had made a fairly swift exit, throwing a bewildered but cautiously happy look over her shoulder, Angie and Eliza were left alone. Angie had sat on the stairs, rocking nervously, trying to think of what to say. She’d run a million similar conversations to this in her head as she’d tossed and turned in bed but she’d had nothing.

“Mom? I, uh, I want to explain,” she’d begun, her voice quickly fading to nothing.

Eliza had come and knelt on the step below her daughter, her eyes warm and honest, “Is this who you are, honey? This is what you want?”

Angie had nodded mutely.

Then Eliza had hugged her, so tightly and surely that Angie had begun to cry. With her mom’s hand on her curls and gently pressing a kiss to her forehead and whispering how much she loved her, Angie could almost believe it was going to be okay.

But then there was still her dad. Angie felt sure there was not going to be any shaking hands or warm welcomes when he heard the name Jefferson. Something would probably get broken.

So they kept sneaking around and with Eliza’s help and careful guard, it got a little easier. But Angie still hated it and she knew Marty hated it even more, despised that they had to let their father’s ridiculous inability to work together force them to hide what they had. But…she was just so scared. She loved her dad; she couldn’t bear to think he could be disappointed in her, angry even.

The expression in his eyes had been enough to make her flinch when she’d finally given in to Marty and Eliza’s insisting that this had to end and asked her parents if she could bring her friend over for dinner. Her friend Martha Jefferson. It had felt sour in her mouth just to say it.

She hadn’t turned to see her father’s face; she’d left the room within a heartbeat of Eliza’s swift “Yes of course, love!” But she’d heard his glass of water hit the carpet.

And now Angie had to face him. And she was honestly terrified.

She’d never been terrified of her dad before.

The usual racket of a Hamilton family dinner was coming from the kitchen, a clamor of several loud voices and occasional crashes as her siblings set the table. Marty raised her eyebrows, though whether is was pleasant surprise or shock or fear, Angie couldn’t tell and didn’t want to look too hard in case it was something she didn’t want to see. 

As noisy as it was, the room stopped dead as the two girls walked in.

Angie’s eyes went to her dad immediately. He was sat at the table, with baby John sleeping on his lap, drooling on his dad’s arm, a book open in front of him; he was clearly squeezing in the last few drops of work he could before Eliza snatched it away. His eyes flickered up when he felt the room go still and when they fixed on the young woman standing next to his daughter they went blank. His shoulders tensed and he was clearly working very hard not to frown outright. But Alex had never been good at hiding his emotions.

“Martha!” Eliza cried happily, just a little too loud, turning away from the stove to take her hand, “Lovely to see you!”

“Hi Mrs. Hamilton,” Marty replied with a smile; she liked Eliza a lot. But then she turned to face Alexander, steeling herself, “Good evening Mr. Hamilton.”

Alex kept his face and voice level but there was the unmistakable weight of barely concealed emotion, “Hello.”

Angie tensed and bit her lip. Tonight was going to be interesting.

Dinner was…tense. Despite Philip and Eliza doing their best to keep the conversation going, brightly chattering away about anything and everything, trying to distract from the fact that Alex was sat there, his shoulders squared, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, completely silent. Marty couldn’t have been more perfect, laughing at her mom’s lame jokes, charming her siblings until John wriggled under the table to her, determined to sit on her lap. Angie risked a squeeze of her hand under the table, more grateful than she had words for.

But Alex stayed silent, completely and utterly silent.

Marty offered to do the dishes because of course she did, she was polite and considerate and perfect. Angie helped; she was well trained in pulling cutlery away from her younger siblings when they were insistent on still pounding them against the table.

As they were at the sink, she could see her mom lean over to her dad so only he’d be able to hear, her expression tight and angry, her mouth moving quickly, exasperatedly. Alex frowned in response, ducking his head, his expression stormy.

Distracted by this scene (her parents hardly ever fought) and the fact that her heartbeat was a million times louder in her ears than usual, Angie didn’t feel the glass slipping out of her hands towards a certain death on the tiles. Marty noticed though and her hand flashed out, catching it just in time.

“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” she grinned, smoothly, her hands staying where they were, their fingers threading together like they belonged there, like puzzle pieces formed and carved for each other, “You goofball.”

“You’re goofball,” Angie threw back in response, feeling the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Got that right,” Marty smirked.

When their lips came together, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But then the haze broke in two and they remembered where they were.

The two girls jumped as far apart as it was possible to get in two milliseconds but it was far, far too late. Every pair of eyes in the room was on them.

“Oh fuck,” Angie breathed, unable to believe that she’d been so completely and utterly stupid.

She’d ruined everything, the only truly good thing she’d ever had was gone and broken and burnt and she’d done it, she’d fucked it all up, why was she like this-

‘So, um, yeah,” she squeaked, her small voice carrying through the deathly silence in the room, “I’m gay?”

God fucking damn it.

AJ just looked vaguely amused. Philip’s mouth was a hard line. Jamie was biting his lip nervously, his eyes wide. Eliza was tensed and ready, honestly fully prepared to pounce on her husband if he tried anything. Marty reached over to take her girlfriend’s hand, looking worried for the first time in her memory.

Angie forced herself to look at her dad, preparing for the worst.

But Alexander just blinked, looking like…like he finally understood.

“Angelica?” he asked, breaking the silence, “Can I talk to you outside for a moment, please?”

The evening air was cold; Angie was shivering almost immediately from the moment the porch door closed behind them, her eyes fixed on the shadows in the garden, too scared to look her dead as he came and stood beside her.

Then, of all things, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against him.

Angie stiffened, too shocked to shiver anymore.

“Angel,” Alex asked quietly, using the nickname he used to call her when she was very small, “Why were you so scared to tell me? Because she’s a Jefferson or…because she’s a girl?”

Angie’s voice was very small and very quiet, “Both, maybe? I don’t know.”

Her dad’s hand tightened comfortingly on her shoulder.

“Angel, you never need to be ashamed of who you love. I know that as well as anyone.”

Yeah, Angie thought silently, she’d heard that about her dad.

“Please, please don’t ever think you need to hide things from me, honey. I’m proud of you. I love you,” his voice was thickening, like he was trying not to cry as much as his daughter was.

Alex turned and shifted so he could kneel in front of Angie, so he could look her in the eyes. They had the same eyes, everyone always said.

“Look, I acted like a jerk tonight and I’m very sorry. If Martha Jefferson is who you want, then all I care about is that she’s worthy of you. I promise.”

Angie’s mouth fell open but she had no words. She was vaguely aware of tears on her cheeks, matching the ones on her dad’s.

“You might need to be brave, Angel, but I’ll support you, we all will. You deserve to be happy,” Alex, said firmly, sincerely, “I love you.”

Angie fell against her dad, his arms closing around her protectively, holding her safe and tight in that way he always wanted to but somehow never found the time to.

“I love you too, dad,” she murmured into his hair.

Alex hung back a little after his daughter had disappeared inside, watching her with warm, watery eyes.

As he looked at her, his wiry frame and long nose, Eliza’s dark hair and breathtaking bravery, he saw someone else. He saw a thin, nervous, angry young man, always scared and always furious, getting punched in the stomach for kissing a boy behind the store without checking to see if they were as alone as they thought, getting insults and worse thrown at him in the streets by boys his age for weeks after, breaking the skin of his knuckles on the jaw of some drunk creep who’d snarled a slur at him from across the bar after seeing his hand on another boys knee.

The boy who’d spend so, so long crying and raging against himself, against who he loved.

His daughter would not have that, he promised himself darkly. His daughter did not deserve that. No kid did.

And if that meant he had to deal with Jefferson’s daughter at his own dinner table then that was a small price to pay.

Alex shook his head bemusedly at how strange the world could be sometimes, going back inside to join his family.

“Is everything okay?” Marty asked, anxiously, jumping to her feet as soon as she saw Angie approach. Eliza looked nervous; she’d been sat on the sofa too, her hand on Marty’s shoulder.

Angie was grinning brilliantly, she reached out and took her girlfriend’s hand, her eyes shining.

“Yeah,” she murmured, delightedly, “Everything is great.”


	11. "I hate boys..."

Eliza closed her eyes happily, enjoying the warmth of the sunset on her skin, her little sister’s voice as she nattered away and her older sister’s fingers in her hair, gently teasing it into a braid. She still had a whole page of homework to do for tomorrow and she knew their mother would be calling them in soon but, for once, she pushed all of her worries to the back of her mind and just enjoyed being out in the garden with her sisters. 

“…And then Ms. Jones got all mad at me but I told her we were playing football, so it was okay for me to tackle James, like it’s in the rules! But then she did that thing where she puffs out her cheeks and puts her hands on her hips? And she goes-“ her little sister sat up suddenly, pulling a face and putting on a high, simpering voice, “’Margarita Schuyler, young women should not be debasing themselves with such violent acts!’ And then she made me apologize to him! Can you believe it? I got punished for being really good at football!” 

Eliza snorted at the scarily accurate impersonation of the fourth grade teacher she remembered well but Angelica made a noise that was closer to an angry growl. 

“Don’t listen to stuff like that, Peg,” she warned looking up from the intricate knot she was making in Eliza’s long, dark hair, “She’s just being a misogynist.”

Eliza smirked as she recognised the grand, careful pronunciation her sister used whenever she was proudly using a long word she’d learned and really, really wanted someone to ask her what it meant. 

“Whassat mean?” Peggy took the bait, her sweet face puzzled. 

“It means people who’re stupid and they think that boys are better than girls,” Angelica explained. 

Her two sisters made twin noises of disbelief and disgust.

“That is stupid,” Eliza nodded in agreement while Peggy mimed being sick into a nearby flowerbed. 

“I hate boys,” Eliza continued, wrinkling her nose in revulsion, “All the girls in my class have been acting really weird around the boys lately. Kitty even said that she was going to try and get Henry to kiss her. How gross is that?”

Peggy clearly shared her feelings, “That’s disgusting! Girls are so much better than boys anyhow!”

But Angelica just inclined her head, thoughtfully, “Well, its not really that either. It’s not that anyone’s better that anyone else, its just everyone should be equal. Mom explained it to me.”

Eliza gnawed on her bottom lip. She was all for fairness, and Angelica was usually right about everything, but she couldn’t help pulling a face when she thought about all of the boys in her class, loud and brash and thoughtless. She just didn’t understand why all of her friends were suddenly so moony eyed over them. It was baffling.

“Well I’m definitely better at football than all the boys. I snapped James like a twig,” Peggy puffed up her chest proudly.

“I don’t doubt it, Peg,” Angelica laughed. She released Eliza’s locks, “And for your information, Eliza, kissing boys isn’t all that bad.”

Her sister rolled her eyes, knowing all about her older sister’s adventures in that respect from a number of night time, whispered conversations under her covers.   
“For you maybe,” Eliza said firmly, “But I’m never going to do it.” 

“Really?” Angelica sounded interested, “You sure?”

“Ten million per cent sure,” Eliza insisted, loftily. 

“Sure enough to make a bet? That you’ll give me ten dollars if you ever kiss a boy?” 

Eliza spun around and held out her hand for her sister to shake, confident that this was one wager she wasn’t going to lose.

 

“You’re nervous,” Eliza smirked, watching Alexander anxiously rapping a spoon against his cup. 

“I’m not nervous,” her boyfriend retorted, raising his voice over the clamor of the crowded coffee shop “I’m just very aware that your sisters are very important to you and that I really, really want them to like me.” 

Eliza smiled fondly, taking his hand under the table and squeezing it comfortingly, “Don’t worry, dude, I’ve already told them pretty much everything about you.”  
Alex looked horrified.

“Well, not everything, just the good stuff,” she corrected herself hurriedly.

“Bet that was a quick conversation,” he grumbled, pushing his hands through his hair like he always did when he was really nervous.

Eliza rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to say something really nice in and really aggressive way (their friends were always mystified by their ability to get into quite heated arguments actually comprised of compliments). But she stopped, seeing her sisters sweep through the door, waving excitedly.

“You will be fine,” she hissed through her teeth as she got up to dive into the three-person hug that was fast approaching. 

And he was. There were quite a few pointed questions from Angelica and Peggy at first but it was only protective sisterly inquiring. Once they’d convinced themselves that Eliza was happy and well taken care of, they let him relax and he eventually settled into his usual charming self. 

Maybe he might have relaxed too much. As he got up to go to the bathroom, he leaned over and kissed Eliza, letting it go on a few seconds longer than was strictly decent, just like he would any other time, apparently forgetting that Angelica and Peggy were right there. Fortunately, he turned away before he could see her face turn bright red. 

Eliza braced herself. But, while Peggy was shaking her head, pretending to be scandalized, Angelica was merely smiling smugly. 

‘Well, well, well,” she drawled, grinning and holding out one hand expectantly.

It took a few moments before Eliza caught on, sighed deeply and fished a ten dollar bill out of her pocket to hand over to her triumphant sister. 

“Guess you were right again, Ange,” Peggy smiled, waggling her eyebrows at Eliza. 

“I’m always right, honey,” Angelica shrugged leaning back in her seat, “Though I’m especially happy about it this time. He’s really sweet, Eliza.” She nodded towards Alexander’s empty seat. 

And Eliza was especially happy to have been wrong.


	12. "Okay, well now they had a problem..."

“You know what we’ve decided to name her?” Eliza’s voice was faint, the exhaustion in it obvious, but Angelica had to smile at the sheer, uncomplicated joy in her younger sister’s voice.

“What?” she couldn’t bring herself to look away from her newborn niece’s face, “Please don’t tell me you let Alex pick?”

Eliza rolled her eyes though she blushed happily, “You must be joking. After this, Alex would pull the moon down from the sky if I asked him. I did all the work, I picked.”

“So what did you choose?”

Eliza smiled and pulled her knees to her chest, “She’s called Angelica.”

It was the first time Eliza could remember seeing her older sister so completely and utterly stunned. Or so delighted.

“You and me are going to be best friends, little one,” Angelica murmured to the baby in her arms.

That story would always make Angie (as she was always known, to set her apart from her namesake) incredibly happy, knowing that ‘the coolest lady in the world’ had been her best friend since the day she was born.

When Angelica saw her phone light up with her niece’s name, she looked at the pile of work she still had left to do, pulled a face but shook her head. The court files could wait.

“Hey there, honey,” she said brightly, “How’s things across the pond?”

“Hi Auntie Angelica,” her niece sounded very far away, “Um, are you busy right now?”

Angelica’s eyes flickered to the pile of work again and then to the clock on her office wall. John would pout a little if she was late for dinner again…but it wouldn’t last long, she’d be able to make him smile again pretty easily.

“Never too busy to talk to my lovely niece,” she smiled, leaning back in her chair, “What’s up?”

Her niece shuffled and groaned and stammered for quite a while before she finally managed to cough up, “Look, this is going to sound stupid and kinda gross but…how can you tell when you like someone?”

Angelica’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and a knowing smile dawned on her face, “Ah, you don’t want to punch them in the face?”

“No, no I mean…when you like someone. You know what I mean?” Angie sounded like she was going to have an aneurysm. Angelica dropped the teasing thing quickly.

“I do, honey…why are you asking exactly?”

“Because I think I might like someone,” Angie sounded like she was admitting to a federal crime.

“Oh really?” Angelica put her feet up on her desk, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger thoughtfully, “You realize that doesn’t mean you have a disease or anything, right?”

“It feels like it!” she protested, with all the fire a fifteen year old Hamilton could muster, which was quite a lot, “I’m…scared. Is that dumb?”

Angelica softened instantly, feeling a strong connection to her namesake and not for the first time.

“No,” she murmured, feeling awfully nostalgic, “No, its not dumb at all. I understand where you’re coming from.”

There was what sounded like a sigh of half relief, half frustration from the other end of the phone, “So what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Angelica grinned at the swear word but she didn’t say anything. She had an idea which of her parents she’d learned that word from. She considered for a while then answered carefully.

“What the fuck you’re supposed to do is…you keep your head and you remember that you are amazing and that this person should thank their lucky stars that you like them.”

Even without seeing her face, Angelica could tell that her niece was smiling.

“Thanks, Auntie Ange,” her voice was quiet but sincere, “You’re the best.”

“Same to you, honey…so…seeing as I just delivered some frankly amazing Auntie advice right there, have I earned the right to know who is worthy of your affections?”

Angie suddenly fell silent and her voice was quiet when she eventually plucked up the courage to speak, “Maybe…if you promise not to tell my dad?”

Angelica smirked at the image of Alexander’s face when he found out that his ‘little girl’ had a crush on someone, “My lips are sealed. Hit me.”

“Um…you should probably know…it’s a girl. Is that okay?”

Angelica smiled brilliantly, “That is more than okay, my love.”

“Okay good…well, I met her at this fundraiser my dad took me too the other week, she’s so unbelievably pretty and she’s so clever its insane. And she gave me her number!”

“Go Angelica Hamilton!” Angelica crowed, delightedly, “Quit stalling and give me a name!”

“Okay, so her name’s Martha Jefferson-“

Angelica’s face froze in horror.

Okay, well now they had a problem.


	13. "Love didn't need words..."

It all started with one throwaway comment from Eliza that it was a shame people didn’t write letters so much anymore. She hadn’t really meant anything by it; she just casually mentioned how it was always nice to know people had actually put effort into something, that it felt more personal to get something handwritten. She’d been lying with her head in Alex’s lap, her eyes half closed, so she hadn’t caught the look in his eye, that bright look he got when he’d had an idea, or the knowing smile that dawned on his face.

Eliza found the first one in her coat pocket when she pulled it on to head out to class. She unfolded the piece of paper, recognizing Alex’s handwriting almost immediately. No one else had that kind of frantic scrawl. She read the words with a puzzled expression that quickly turned into amazement. It was a love letter. He’d actually written her a love letter. And left it in her coat pocket to surprise her.

Eliza couldn’t stop smiling all morning.

The next one fell out of her notebook when she opened it. There was another acting as a makeshift bookmark in her copy of Emma (Alex did always hate it when she folded the corner of the page). There was also one inside the cover of her textbook and another in her backpack.

“I’d make a pretty good pickpocket, huh?” he smiled triumphantly at her from across their usual table in the library, after she’d opened her laptop to find another one tucked inside.

“I can’t believe you,” Eliza groaned, her voice muffled by the fact that her head was in her hands, in a failing attempt to hide how much she was blushing.

“Do you like them though?” he pressed.

“Of course I do, I love them,” she exclaimed, “I love you.”

She jumped up and seized the front of his shirt, leaning across the table so she could kiss him, not caring that they were drawing glances.

“How are you so good with words?” she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief, when she finally let him go.

“I’ve just got really great inspiration,” he grinned crookedly, still holding her hand, running his thumb across her palm.

Eliza was still smiling, though as she sat down there was a slightly anxious edge in her eyes, just for a moment. No one else would have noticed but Alex caught it immediately.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, frowning a little.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly, too quickly.

Alex just raised his eyebrows and waited.

Eliza sighed and admitted defeat, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to drop it, “It’s just…I can’t do all this fancy stuff with words that you can do, I’m not a poet or anything. But you know I love you just as much, right? I’m just not great at…writing it down, I guess?”

Alex looked dumbfounded but then his expression softened. He abandoned his half finished essay and crossed over to the empty seat next to Eliza, folding her in a hug.

“Eliza, honestly? The only reason I’m brave enough to write stuff like this because I’m so certain you love me back. You just don’t need words to do it,” he told her softly, putting a gentle hand under her chin so he could look her in the eyes.

Eliza had to smile. She trusted him, although she wasn’t completely convinced.

But then she started to notice things. She noticed how, whenever they were in bed together and Alex would be sleeping restlessly, his muscles tight and face twisted in a frown, but all it would take was Eliza’s hands around his waist, her head against his chest and he’d settle. He’d be working at his desk, frustrated and exhausted, but then she’d squeeze his shoulder as she passed by and he’d smile despite everything. She noticed how his face would brighten whenever she took his hand as he walked by her side, or kissed him quickly on the cheek just because she wanted to. How he’d sigh happily whenever she draped herself across him as they sat watching a movie or just reading next to each other in companionable silence.

And Eliza began to understand that sometimes love didn’t need words.


	14. "Strong like You..."

Angie Hamilton had always firmly believed that she was named after one of the coolest ladies ever, her mother had told her so many times. With every book her aunt sent from London with a note written in the front page just for her, with every time her aunt was in town and not only took her niece to the theatre on the evening but also let her come to her law firm during the day and help her with work, Angie became more and more sure. In a house full of boys, it was just so nice to have someone so elegant and smart and just plain beautiful look her in the eyes, take her by the hand and really listen to her. 

She really loved her aunt Angelica.

Another way she could tell that her namesake was the coolest was, when her twelve year old nice called her one morning and asked her to teach her to fight, she didn’t laugh. She took it completely seriously, called it a fantastic idea and said she’d pick her up on Saturday morning. 

When Angelica said morning, she meant early morning. The gym was practically empty as they faced each other on opposite sides of the mat. 

“So my mom was telling me how good you were at kickboxing when you were in college,” Angie explained, bouncing from one foot to the other like she couldn’t contain all the excitement and energy in her. 

“Oh yeah,” Angelica smiled, as she tied her hair back, “Tip for when you’re older, kiddo, one really good way to get rid of exam stress is having a sanctioned excuse to beat people up.” 

Angie giggled, her nose wrinkling up in the same way Angelica remembered Eliza’s did. That reminded her…

“Actually, while we’re on the subject? Theres a few things your mom knows I did in college that can definitely wait until you’re older. Tell her that for me.”

The young girl nodded earnestly and blushed a little, still hopping and fidgeting. Angelica thought they’d better start before she exploded with excitement. She pulled on some gloves and held them up.

“Come on then, honey,” she grinned, “Show me what you’ve got.”

What Angie had was a lot of fire. She jumped about like a lion cub learning to pounce, her face set in determination, her eyes bright, legs flashing out with an awful lot of speed and force but not a whole lot of precision. She was the father’s daughter, Angelica thought fondly, as she blocked another one of her blows. But she also had her mother’s capability to listen. Every instruction her aunt gave she took on board, going lower when she was told to and higher when she was told to, looking like she wasn’t going to stop until she collapsed. Every time Angelica started to pull back, to suggest that maybe they should take a break, her niece would shake her head firmly, pushing on even when her face was dark and her black curls were hanging limp with sweat and her chest was heaving. 

Eventually the inevitable happened and a misplaced foot sent Angie tumbling backwards, hitting the mat with a heavy thud. Angelica winced, pulling her gloves off as fast as possible and kneeling down next to her to see if she was okay. 

She was shocked to see tears in the girl’s eyes. She didn’t think she’d fallen that hard, had she? 

“Angie?” she said quietly, reaching out and putting a comforting hand on the back of her head.

The girl was blushing furiously, rubbing at her leaking eyes with embarrassment, “Sorry…I-I just really need to get this, otherwise they’re not going to leave me alone.”

Angelica frowned, shifting her weight so she was sat next to her niece, her eyes narrowed astutely, “Angie? Why exactly did you ask me to teach you to fight?”

Angie looked like she regretted saying anything, like she was just going to deny it, but her aunt’s cool, comforting voice had opened something in her.

“There’s these kids at school and…they’re really mean. They’re always saying stuff about my dad, really horrible stuff,” she admitted in a low, mournful voice, “I didn’t want to tell him because he’d blame himself. I didn’t want to tell Philip because then he’s do something stupid and get in trouble. I wanted to take care of it myself…so I thought if I was strong like you…”

Angelica sighed, pulling the little girl close against her. Her skin was hot.

She understood, she understood perfectly. Apparently she and her nice had more than just their name in common. But as for what to say, she wasn’t quite sure. Eliza would know, she thought in frustration. But Eliza wasn’t here. So what you twelve year old Angelica Schuyler want to hear?

“Angie…you know you’re already one of the strongest people I know, right?”

The little girl blinked with so much disbelief it hurt Angelica’s heart a little, “Really?”

“Of course. So strong, in fact, that you can realise that what people like that think doesn’t matter. 

Angie managed a nod and a brave smile, “You’re the coolest, auntie Angelica.”

“Not half as cool as you, sweetheart. Now come on, I’ll show you that move again.”


	15. "They felt like a family..."

It had started off as more of a necessity really. 

It started when Dosia had a very important grant proposal presentation to make and couldn’t really have a six-month-old baby girl in the corner of the room. So when Alex looked up from his desk one morning, there was Aaron Burr, holding a car seat and wearing an expression that Hamilton was absolutely not going to argue this. Not that Alex would have, with what was going on at home, he’d actually gotten very used to working with the sound of a fussing baby in the background.

In fact, when Aaron found himself trying to juggle two heavy files, a ringing phone and a squirming baby Theo, Alex simply coughed politely and held out two arms. Aaron sighed and relinquished his daughter with only a slightly reluctant nod of thanks. Although when he finally took care of the million and one things that demanded his attention and offered to take his daughter back, Alex pouted at the idea of letting go of her, despite the fact that she was pulling on his long hair pretty forcefully.   
Even Aaron couldn’t hide his smile. 

 

The first time Alexander brought his own son to the office, after Eliza got the flu, went less smoothly. It seemed Philip Hamilton had inherited his father’s lack of volume control; when he wasn’t howling at the top of his lungs he was yelping and squawking apparently just because he wanted to. Aaron started to realise why the bruise like shadows under Alex’s eyes had been getting so pronounced over the last few months. 

“Does he ever sleep?” Aaron groaned after a while, once he really had reached the end of his tether. 

Alex shot him an exasperated glare, bouncing a still shrieking Pip on his knee as he made notes on their latest case; “I’ve tried everything okay? He’s just…energetic.” 

“Energetic,” Aaron repeated flatly, thinking of a few other words that would be more appropriate, “Alex, I am about three seconds away from jumping out the window.”

His colleague jumped to his feet, pulling the kicking and writhing baby closer against him “Fine. Fine, I guess I could.... But you need to promise me you won’t laugh!”

Aaron looked at Alex blankly, “We’re not five years old, Hamilton.” 

Alex stopped just short of sticking his tongue out, instead shifting his son’s head to one side and giving Aaron the middle finger. 

“Let me correct myself,” the other man sighed, “I’m not five years old.”

Alex scowled furiously but was distracted by baby Philip picking that moment to try and shove his dad’s tie in his mouth, as if anticipating the swear words he was about to spit and deciding to take action. With a frustrated huff, Alex held his son close against his chest, rocking him gently, turning away from Aaron.

It took him a few moments to realise that the unfamiliar sounds he could suddenly hear, in between the infant screaming, was Alex singing in a gentle voice, gentler that he’d ever have thought the other man was capable of. He didn’t know the language but he supposed it was Spanish. The words sounded so…nice. Nice enough that baby Philip’s shrieking soon stopped and slowed and gave way to mild snores. 

For the first time in five hours, their tiny little office was quiet. 

Alex sat back down heavily, a blush darkening his face, deliberately not looking Aaron in the eye. He held Philip lightly in the crook of one arm and went back to his notes. 

“Not one word,” he muttered darkly at Aaron, "Or I will shove you out the window."

Once again, Aaron was struggling to hide a smile.

 

So having as many as two small children crawling around their already cramped office space moved from something of a necessity to a source of entertainment. Quite often Philip Hamilton and Theodosia Burr Jr found themselves together for hours on end while their fathers worked and argued and bickered. So it was something of a relief that from the first moment that they peered curiously at each other from around the desk, Theo’s eyes a little nervous, Philip’s shining with excitement, they were best friends. 

 

Although sometimes it caused it’s own problems. Like when the time came to say goodnight for another day.

Aaron sighed, looking at the way his four year old clung to Philip like she was never ever going to let him go, “Theo, sweetie, we really do need to get going.”

Theo whined unhappily and tightened her grip. Philip pulled a face like he was struggling to breathe. When Theo hugged someone, she hugged hard. 

“Philip? Say goodbye to Theo, come on,” Alex prompted, scratching his head, sounding like he knew this wasn’t going to turn out to be successful. 

Pip swivelled his eyes to his dad, huge and pleading, “Don’t want to.”

Alex shrugged helplessly at Aaron, as if he’d done all he could do. He got a glare in response.

“But Pops!” Philip continued, his voice wheedling, “Theo could sleepover! She could stay in my bed, I don’t mind! Couldn’t she?”

Theo gasped and looked to her own dad hopefully. 

Aaron groaned. When she fixed him with that kind of expression, he nearly always caved. But he had to make a futile attempt, “Theo, you have no pyjamas or clothes for tomorrow or…”

“She could borrow my clothes!” Philip apparently had an answer for everything, just like his father.

Alex bit his lip and muttered quietly, “I don’t mind? Eliza won’t either?”

Aaron’s shoulders slumped in defeat. If any of his clients every found out that he could be so easily won over by a toddler…

“Okay, Theo. You can stay at the Hamilton’s tonight if that’s what you really want.”

Theo and Philip both shrieked delightedly and bounced with excitement, though they nearly toppled over as Theo insisted on staying latched to Philip like a koala. 

“We’ll take care of her,” Alex assured Aaron, seeing his expression. There was no trace of sarcasm or joke for once. He was perfectly serious, “Promise.”

Aaron had very little faith in Alex Hamilton. But he had a lot more faith in his wife, Eliza. 

It would be okay. That’s what he told himself as he hugged Theo goodbye. 

 

Eliza’s eyebrows rose a little when her husband came home from work with two children instead of the one he’d left with but she got her explanation very quickly as Pip came crashing into the kitchen, clinging to her legs and chattering excitedly about how Theo was going to sleep at their house tonight, how he was going to show her all his toys and how they was going to have so much fun, on and on like he was never going to run out of words. A lot of what he said was directed at the huge curve in his mom’s stomach (she was due in just over a month) talking to his sibling curled up safe inside. Eliza smiled and stroked his curls, turning her face to Theo who was hovering in the doorway a little shyly. 

“You going to stay with us tonight, sweetie?” Eliza held a hand out to her to pull her into the hug. 

Theo accepted it eagerly as soon as it was offered and wrapped her arms around Eliza’s other leg, nodding eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. 

“Well, you’re very welcome,” Eliza couldn’t bend down and give her the usual kiss on the forehead but she ruffled her little lion’s mane happily. 

Alex came trailing in as Pip was in the process of dragging Theo off to the living room, insisting that he was going to show her every single one of his books and toys (which would probably also involve throwing them all over the place). His eyes lit up at the sight of Eliza, taking her head in his hands and kissing her deeply. 

“Eeeew!” Pip groaned from the doorway, looking apologetically at Theo, who was politely averting her eyes, “Sorry. They do that all the time.”

Alex grinned and winked at them over Eliza’s shoulder as they disappeared to take their whirlwind of chaos elsewhere. 

“We don’t do it all the time, do we?” Eliza giggled.

“Not in the slightest,” Alex murmured as he pulled her in and kissed her again, hands cradling her jaw. 

They were both laughing when they finally pulled away, when Alex bend to press his lips to the swell in her dress instead, making Eliza blush and smile as she pulled his hair out of its ponytail and let it hang free around his shoulders. 

“So…what’s that about?” she motioned to the living room, which was now emanating some mildly worrying crashes and bangs.

Alex shrugged modestly, “Yeah I didn’t think you’d mind. The idea of saying goodbye to each other for a week had them both nearly in tears. So we ended up with kind of an impromptu sleepover.” 

Eliza’s expression softened, “They’re adorable.” 

“They are,” Alex agreed, leaning against the counter, his arm around her waist, “Though I can’t believe two little kids can make that much noise.”

She laughed shortly, her hand skating across her stomach, “Better get used to it.”

Alex pulled an expression of mock horror but Eliza could see the smile in his dark eyes.

 

Eliza had fallen asleep on the sofa halfway through the film with the little ones in her arms; understandable given her condition, so it was Alex who noticed Theo’s eyelids get heavy. He watched her lip start to wobble as it kind of sunk in that she was spending the night in a house that wasn’t her own. Alex bend and picked her up as she came out of the bathroom, wearing one of Eliza’s t shirts as a kind of nightdress, sleepily rubbing her eyes. 

“Would you like a bedtime story, Theo?” he asked, settling her on his hip with a reassuring smile as they followed a still bouncing Pip down the hall to his bedroom, “Would that make you feel better?”

‘Yes!” Philip answered for her, dive-bombing onto his bed, shuffling right over so there was space for his friend, “Pops’ stories are the best, Theo!” 

Alex shrugged modestly as he tucked them in, there was plenty of room for them both in Pip’s bed, a hand me down from Eliza’s parents like most of the stuff in their apartment, “I try to impress.”

He went and stood in the middle of the room; he moved around a lot when he was making up stories. And Philip was right; he did kind of have the knack for inventing wild tales for his son, often involving epic battles with monsters and bad guys. But tonight, with little Theo hunkered down in bed, doing her koala impression again, blinking at him with slightly watery eyes, Alex felt like a slightly different approach was needed.

‘Okay…” he rubbed at his goatee as he thought of where to begin, “so once upon a time, there was a little boy and a little girl who were the best friends in the whole wide world.”

The two children both looked at each other ecstatically. Alex grinned, starting to pace, his voice lifting into something a little more theatrical. 

“So, the little girl was called…ah…Theodora! And she was the smartest person ever, so clever that she had a million books and she’d read them all. Twice!”

Theo’s face lit up. On their office play dates, when she wasn’t playing with Pip, she was curled up under Aaron’s desk with her nose in some storybook or other. In fact, Philip had won her over the very first time they’d met with their shared love of Dr Seuss. 

“Theodora could solve any problem, she could crack any code, she was the smartest little girl in the whole world!” Alex continued grandly, “And she had her best friend, a little boy called…Phineas!”

“Phineas?” Philip snorted, wrinkling his little nose. 

“Yes,” Alex rolled his eyes, leaning in and giving his son’s nose a gentle flick as he continued his thoughtful waltzing around the bedroom, “Now hush. So Phineas was very special too. He had crazy amounts of energy; he never, ever stopped moving, he was like a hurricane in sneakers! Little Phineas could run at the speed of light and jump as high as mountains, no one could catch him.”

Philip was satisfied with this, grinning delightedly and kicking his legs under the blanket. Alex nodded happily and really got into it.

“So one day, Theodora and Phineas were walking through a forest…”

Nearly forty-five minutes later and Alex was kneeling at the foot of the bed, busy enacting a dramatic sword fight with cloud pirates when he noticed Theo and even Philip starting to yawn loudly. He dropped his imaginary lightning cutlass and sat back on his heels, smiling.

“Ready to go to sleep, guys? We can finish this some other time,” he asked quietly, getting twin sleepy nods as an answer. 

Alex knelt beside Theo, reaching out and stroking Theo’s hair, “Okay, so if you get scared in the night, sweetheart, you’ve got Pip right here and me and Eliza are just across the hall.”

Theo nodded, her eyelids half closed, leaning into his touch. Alex smiled and kissed her forehead, leaning across and giving Philip the same. 

“Goodnight, you two,” he murmured before he closed the door. 

 

When Theo’s eyes snapped open, she had no idea where she was. It was like she couldn’t move her arms or legs; she couldn’t close her eyes. Confused and frightened, her little heart pounding sickeningly in her chest, wincing at the shadows climbing the walls and the howling from outside, she wanted mommy, she wanted daddy, she was so scared… 

“Theo?” a breathy little voice reached through the anxiety clouding her mind.

Philip. He was sat up next to her, his eyes filmy, just about focused on her. Theo relaxed a little. 

“It’s okay,” Philip reached out and pulled his best friend into a tight hug, “You scared?”

Theo trembled a little, “I miss my mommy and daddy.” She really didn’t want to cry in front of him but with that admission there were suddenly tears welling up in her eyes before she could stop them.

“S’fine,” Philip hugged her tighter, his wild bedhead tickling her nose, “You got me. I’m here.”

Those words were enough to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. Pip was so warm and soft and comforting, smelling like soap and sleep. Theo just buried her face in his shoulder and found herself calming down. 

When the hammering in her chest didn’t stop, Pip decided that this was more than a one person job. He took Theo’s hand and together they padded quietly across the hall to his parents’ bedroom. 

Theo pulled back when they reached the door; hesitant to wake up Alex and Eliza, not certain she was worth it. But her friend shook his head firmly and pulled her inside.   
Alex woke up quickly, jerking up and rolling onto his elbows as soon as Pip tapped him on the shoulder. Theo had to giggle a little despite everything, he looked really funny with his eyes all bleary and a chunk of hair in his mouth that looked like it belonged to Eliza, his own hair was piled on top of his head in a crazy topknot. 

“Wha?” he groaned, blinking rapidly, “Pip?” 

“Theo and me gonna sleep with you and mama,” Pip said in a tone that didn’t ask for any argument.

Alex needed a minute for his brain to boot up but then his eyes flickered to Theo, standing there shivering and hugging herself, her eyes starting to get damp again. And he nodded insistently, reaching out to them. 

“Course, sweetie, that’s fine, jump on in,” Alex’s voice cracked with sleep but it was a comforting sound and Theo felt better just from hearing it. 

The two kids clambered over Alex to snuggle down between the two of them, getting comfortable with a lot of shifting and rearranging. Eliza’s eyelids fluttered open and she sat up, apparently not even concerned by the fact that two small children were suddenly occupying her bed, flinging the duvet onto the floor and squirming between her and her husband. 

“Careful of Eliza’s bump,” Alex warned sleepily, folding his arms around his son and burying his face in his cloud of hair.

Theo was carful, a little nervous actually, but Eliza just smiled and helped her find a comfortable position, holding the little girl close and stroking her back soothingly until Theo could forget that she’d ever been scared. Eliza had that kind of magic in her. 

“Enough squirming Pip, c’mon,” Alex muttered groggily, “Sleep now.”

Theo remembered that it was the middle of the night; she huddled down in Eliza’s arms and closed her achy eyes. 

They all got about twenty minutes of calm. 

Theo squeaked in shock and jumped a mile when she felt the nudging at her back, sudden and unexpected like someone really wanted her awake. Eliza made a small noise of surprise, looking down. Alex was bolt upright in a heartbeat, his expression panicky, taking a very startled Pip with him. 

“Oh, sorry about that, honey,” Eliza eased Theo, rubbing her shoulder. Her eyes flickered up to Alex, “It’s okay. Baby’s just awake.”

Alex yawned, instantly exhausted again and promptly flopped back down onto the pillows, making Philip giggle, “Okay. Cool. Love ya.”

Theo was astonished, looking down at Eliza’s belly with wide eyes. “Wow,” she breathed, “That’s so cool.” 

“You can put your hands there if you like?” Eliza smiled.

Theo did, gingerly, feeling the rolling and writhing even through her pyjama shirt. It was weird but it was kind of amazing. 

“I think they want to know if you’re okay. If you’re feeling any better?” Eliza murmured, putting her hands over Theo’s.

The little girl smiled brilliantly, her teeth gleaming in the dark. She curled over and put her face close to the bump, just like she’d seen Pip do loads of times, “I’m great. You go sleep.”

“They like you!” Eliza whispered, a little choked up as she stroked Theo’s hair.

The little girl looked thoughtful, “How can you tell?”

“Because they woke up just to say hello to you,” she answered easily, beaming down at Theo.

“We don’t have a new baby at home,” Theo sighed thoughtfully, resting her head on the globe of Eliza’s stomach, “I asked but mama only said maybe. That always means no.”

“That’s an old mom trick, Theo,” Alex croaked, “Watch out for that.” 

Eliza pulled a face at him, sighing thoughtfully, “Well, baby, I’m sure Pip wouldn’t mind sharing with you.”

“Yeah!” Pip yelped excitedly, forgetting that it was one in the morning, “You’d be an awesome big sister!”

Alex shushed him, wincing, “What did we say about inside voices, buddy?”

Pip was instantly apologetic, shrinking down in his dad’s arms and putting a finger to his lips. But he was grinning excitedly, his wide smile matching Theo’s perfectly as she looked over at him. 

“Sleep now, honey?” Eliza murmured.

Theo nodded, squirreling down and resting her head against Eliza’s bump again, enjoying the warmth and the soft thudding of the two heartbeats. Within minutes she was asleep and so was Philip, over in his dad’s arms. 

Eliza and Alex shared a long, loving look over the tops of the children’s heads and they both freed one hand to reach across the space to entwine their fingers together.

It was a little cramped, with all four (well, five) of them in one bed. It was a little uncomfortable. 

But they felt like a family.


	16. "I hope I made you proud..."

“Alex, I swear to God, get back in bed and calm down or I’m throwing another book at you,” Eliza groaned tiredly, not even opening her eyes, not even lifting her head from the pillow.

Her husband wanted to keep arguing. He wanted to keep insisting that she’d felt a pain, of course that meant that she must be in labor, she was thirty nine weeks pregnant, what else could it be, they had to go to the hospital right freaking now! But the last time Eliza threatened to throw a book at him, she’d meant it. And it had been his Study of European Law, which was a pretty damn heavy book. Last time he left that thing on the bedside table.

And, to be honest, judging by the fact that Eliza was halfway back to sleep already, the baby probably wasn’t coming right this second.

Alex may have slightly overreacted. Again. For the third time this week.

He sighed, dropping the jeans he’d been half in half out of, the first item of clothing he’d grabbed after he’d catapulted out of bed, frantic after seeing Eliza wince and moan a little. But it was nothing, just another false alarm.

Alex huffed and crawled back in bed beside his wife, but he couldn’t help smiling a little as she sleepily wrapped her arms around him and used his chest as a pillow. He kissed her forehead and placed his palms gently on her belly, there days they were hardly anywhere else.

“You need to stop doing this, baby,” Eliza murmured sleepily, “You’re stressing yourself out. And scaring me, to be honest. Stuff like this happens towards the end, it’s supposed to, everything’s okay.”

Alex tensed a little defensively but let go of it in a heartbeat; he knew she was right. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I’m just…you know.”

Eliza’s arms tightened around him comfortingly, understanding exactly what he meant, “It’s okay.”

He opened his mouth to say more but Eliza has already gone limp, drifting off within seconds and with no warning, which she’d been doing a lot these days. Alex smiled fondly and kissed the top of her head.

“Pull it together, Hamilton,” he warned himself, as he drifted off too.

 

“I said I’m not hungry, Alex,” Eliza moaned, her whole body tense as she sat grouchily, watching him move around their tiny kitchen. She’d shifted the chair back a way, her frankly enormous stomach didn’t fit under the table anymore.

“You’ve barely eaten anything all day, Betsey,” he insisted, rummaging through the cupboard for something that wouldn’t make her nausea worse, “Just a piece of fruit or something? Please?”

He waved a kiwi at her hopefully. He knew they were her favorite.

But Eliza just screwed up her delicate face, “I can’t Alex, the thought of it honestly makes me want to vomit. I just feel a little strange right now.”

That word made him stop dead in his tracks, nearly falling off the counter he was kneeling on (he technically couldn’t reach the top shelf). His head snapped over to his wife with wide, panicked eyes.

“Alex!” Eliza warned him, her finger coming up to point at him accusingly, “You promised!”

He remembered. So he swallowed back his panic, favoring a scowl instead as he jumped down from the counter.

“All right, all right, I get it. Don’t overreact, don’t panic, I’m sure you’re fine,” he sighed as he walked over, setting a glass of water in front of her.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she squeezed his arm, “Can you get my book for me? It’s in the living room?”

“Of course,” he nods, turning on his heels and calling over his shoulder, “I’ll make sure I don’t panic on the way there!”

Eliza smiled and shook her head gently, “Don’t! I’m fine.”

Alex was stood in the front room, scratching at his goatee and wondering what book she meant from the piles on nearly every available flat surface, when he heard her cry out.

Feeling like he’d just been drenched in cold water, Alex pelted back into the kitchen. Eliza was braced against the table, shivering, her eyes screwed shut. The water had overturned and was now dripping onto the floor but there was a lot more on the tiles than could ever be held in that glass.

“Oh shit…” Alex breathed.

Eliza moaned through gritted teeth, “Alex. I think it’s happening.”

Alexander Hamilton had made a lot of bad decisions in his life. Like, a lot. But one of his absolute worst was turning to his scared, distressed wife, five seconds after her waters broke and exclaiming “Well, I told you so! I was right!”

There was a moment of awful, terrible silence.

“I fucking hate you, Alexander Hamilton,” Eliza moaned weakly, holding her stomach.

As he frantically apologized and ran to her side, Alex thought to himself how that probably wasn’t the only time she would say that to him in the next twenty-four hours or so.

He wasn’t wrong.

 

Eight am the next morning and Alex’s hear were ringing slightly from Eliza repeatedly screaming that she hated him and detailing the various interesting and colorful ways she was going to remove his reproductive organs, his fingers were bruised and he had long scratch marks down his arms.

But his Eliza was safe and sleeping, a gentle smile on her exhausted face. And Philip Hamilton was here, tiny and perfect and so beautiful, napping in his dad’s arms.

And Alex really couldn’t make himself care about anything beyond that.

He hadn’t stopped crying or smiling in the hour since he’d held his son for the first time and he say no plans to change that fact. He was just so happy. So happy that it was almost painful. It felt like the entire focus of his life had shifted, like his internal software had been rewritten. Everything that had seemed important before now made him want to laugh deliriously, how had he ever cared so much about that stuff? Nothing mattered now apart from his son, his wonderful little son, the best gift he’d ever received in his life.

Everything Alex did from now on, he did for his family.

Alex cradled him gently against his chest, standing near the window of the hospital room so his little boy could see his first sunrise. He could hear Eliza’s soft snores from where she slept, utterly and understandably exhausted, but that didn’t stop him craning his neck to check on her every so often, struck by how much he adored her.

“Your mother is the best, Pip, isn’t she?” he smiled, his voice rusty from hours of coaching Eliza (which had turned out to mean just repeating exactly what the doctor said) but warm.

He got a frown and tiny squeak from the sleeping newborn in his arms, which he took as complete agreement as well as the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

Alex sighed happily and studied his son’s face, memorizing every feature; the slope of his nose, the dawn color of his skin, slightly lighter than his father’s, the little birthmark on his eyelid, his heart shaped face. He had great fun sorting the features into boxes, what was his and what was Eliza’s, all the different parts and pieces that made his son so wonderful. That made him Philip.

Although there was one thing he kept sticking on. One thing that made his throat tighten for a completely different reason than simple happiness.

Baby Philip had a head full of soft, dark curls, fluffy and delicate like tiny feathers. Alex could hardly keep himself from running his hands across the crown of his head. But every time he did, it made him so terribly sad.

Because that hair wasn’t his and it wasn’t Eliza’s, they both had perfectly straight hair.

It was all Rachel’s.

Alex knew that hair well, he’d ran his fingers through it as a boy as his mother would lie next to him in bed and read him stories and sing him songs. He’d buried his face in it when he’d been upset, when his father had been yelling and he was scared and mama was crying but he didn’t know why, he just knew he wanted to help. He’d seen it wet and stiff with seawater when mama had taught him to swim down at the beach. He’d seen the sunlight bouncing off it as she’d stood at the counter of the store, working away, making him think that his mama was the prettiest lady ever.

He’d rested his head against in in the middle of the night, when he’d been sick and scared and desperate for some kind of comfort, when she’d used what must have been the last of her strength to sing him his lullaby.

Alex swallowed hard to clear his throat, pulling his baby son closer to his chest. Of course he knew the words without needing to think, he’d never forgotten them.

 

_“Una mariposita, que del cielo bajó._

_Con sus alas extendidas._

_Y en el pico una flor. ¿_

_Para quién son las flores?_

_Si no son para mí._

_Ay mamita del alma._

_Yo me muero por ti._

_Cuando venga papito_

_S_ _e lo voy a decir_

_Que esa mariposita_

_No me deja dormir_

_¡Dormir!”_

 

Alex wasn’t the best singer and his voice broke more than a few times but it meant more than him than words could say, to be stood here holding his own child in his arms and singing his mother’s words.

He gave Philip a gentle kiss on his forehead, feeling one tiny little hand close around his thumb, holding fast.

“You’d love them, mama. You really would. I love them so much,” Alex murmured thickly.

“I hope I made you proud.”


	17. "What could you possibly do to disappoint me?"

“Just let him sleep there; its okay, I can keep an eye on him.”

Alex had known he was going to end up regretting his words; that it was probably going to end up with these case notes definitely not getting completed like they absolutely needed to be. But Eliza had been reading to little AJ on the sofa in his office, letting their youngest gently drift off in her arms while she cooed to him softly and played with his mop of dark hair (though he wasn’t going to be the littlest Hamilton for very long, if Alex and Eliza’s plans worked out). And he just looked so unbearably cute, his sweet little heart shaped face relaxed for once, that when Eliza was about to leave to do some of her own work, Alex offered.

Which he knew he was going to end up regretting, before the words even left his mouth. Because as relaxed and calm as their little son was, he was AJ. And AJ was never asleep for long.

So Alex wasn’t terrifically surprised when, without any warning, a fluffy little head suddenly appeared between his legs, jumping up from under his desk.

“Pops!” his little four-year-old son yelped delightedly, as usual going from flat out to wide awake in seconds.  

Alex grinned widely, “Well hello there, little man. Finished your nap, huh?”

AJ wriggled up onto his dad’s lap, “Yeah. Not sleepy. Wanna play.”

Alex sighed, kissing his youngest’s mess of fluffy, jet-black hair that he could already tell was going to grow into something very similar to his own. In fact, there was an awful lot of himself in little AJ, in his boundless energy and his dark eyes that always seemed to be sparking with some kind of light, his hooked nose with a light dusting of freckles, his crooked smile. He and Eliza had chosen well in which kid had his father’s name.

“I can’t play right now, AJ,” Alex explained, “I’ve got work to do.”

That didn’t go down well with his four year old, he started to pout unhappily, “But Pops’ been working for _forever._ I wanna play explorers again!”

Alex’s mouth twitched up into a smile at the memory of a few nights ago where he, Pip, Angie and AJ had built a makeshift camp in the living room and roamed the wild jungles of the apartment, fighting off giant leeches (Alex’s socks), swimming through the swamp (crawling around under the duvet of their bed), swinging through the vines (Alex throwing them in the air) and eventually finding the lair of the beautiful earth goddess (Eliza, smiling bemusedly as her children piled on her, crowing in triumph). It had been a lot of fun.

“I know, mijo, I know. But this really needs to get finished, it’s important,” Alex sighed before stiffening, quickly correcting himself, “Not that you aren’t important, sweetheart, I-I just…”

He huffed, frustrated, his rambling lost on his little boy, who was idly fidgeting with one of the buttons on his overalls, not really listening. He kept writing, with the hand that wasn’t holding AJ safe on his knee. Maybe if he worked fast, he’d have time to play later…

“What does Pops do?” AJ asked after a while, unable to stay quiet for very long. Just like his father.

Alex chuckled, his pencil not dropping it’s pace, “Pops is a lawyer, mijo.”

“A lawyer,” AJ repeated, swinging his chubby little legs thoughtfully, “Whassat?”

“Well, a lawyer is someone who argues for a living,” Alex smiled, using his wife’s playful way of describing his profession, “People go to court when they’ve been bad, right? And my job is to argue whether they should be punished or not. Like solving a puzzle.”

AJ considered that for a few moments, one hand snaking up to tug lightly on Alex’s long, dark hair like he always did; he was very tactile. Alex didn’t mind, it calmed his little boy down.

“You must be real smart,” he chirped.

Alex tilted his head, grinning smugly and shrugging, glowing with his son’s praise, “Well, I know how to use my brain, buddy.”

“That’s really, really cool,” the little boy nodded, twisting his dad’s hair in his little fingers, “I wanna be a lawyer. Like my Pops.”

Alex’s heart thudded against his ribs with pride; he couldn’t do anything for a long moment except bury his face in AJ’s hair and try not to cry.

He really loved being a dad.

“Well, you’re definitely clever enough,” he chuckled, giving AJ another kiss, “I’m sure you’ll make a brilliant lawyer.”

“Pops gonna be proud of me,” the little Hamilton said brightly, sounding absolutely certain. He usually did, he had the easy confidence of a four year old.

Alex’s bottom lip wobbled, he dropped his pencil entirely and wrapped his arms around his youngest tightly. AJ squeaked in surprise but he returned the hug as best he could, snuggling into his Pops eagerly.

“You already make me so proud, AJ,” Alex murmured gently, “Every single day.”

AJ giggled happily, squirming out of his dad’s tight embrace a little so he could breathe again. He blinked his dark brown eyes at him hopefully.

Alex melted in seconds, “You know what? I can finish this later. Lets go set up basecamp, huh?”

AJ gasped and whooped in delight, squirming down and taking his dad’s hand, pulling him out of the office, a lot stronger than his size would suggest. Alex’s smile lit up his whole face, letting himself be tugged along, the sound of his son’s laughter meaning more to him than anything.

He’d decided what was important.

-

“Dad you’re not coming and that’s final!” AJ’s voice was tired, sick of explaining this to his father for the millionth time that night.

Alex nearly dropped his fork, his jaw dropping. He looked between his namesake and his wife, “Is he serious, Eliza? Did our third born just say what I thought he said?”

Eliza gave him a gentle smile, resting her chin on her hand, “Sweetheart? He’s twenty-five, he’s not thirteen. If he doesn’t want you to go…?”

Alex gaped in horror at her, “Traitor.” He spun back around to AJ, who was starting to regret coming over to his parents’ for dinner, even if the food was way, way better than the energy drink and handful of skittles he usually had for dinner now he’d moved out, “It’s your first case, AJ! Of course I’m going, I want to cheer you on!”

AJ pulled a face, an exaggerated shiver running down his body, “For God’s sake, Pops! It’s a courthouse; it isn’t my high school spring musical! You don’t cheer me on!?”

Alex blinked, looking offended, “But I want to! I’m really proud of you! Why wouldn’t I come and support you?”

Eliza’s hand came and gently threaded her fingers through her husbands, her voice soft, “Honey?”

His eyes turned to her, confused, not understanding what the problem was. But Eliza raised an eyebrow, an entire conversation flickering between their eyes, years and years of being married letting them communicate without opening their mouths. And after a few moments Alex relaxed and sighed, turning back to his son.

AJ stared defiantly back at him. He really had grown into the image of his father, though of course less gaunt, naturally happier, with a much easier smile and relaxed nature than Alex had ever had at that age. And for that, Alex was more thankful than he had words for.

“AJ, listen, its okay to be nervous,” he said quietly, “You’ll be great, I know you will.”

His son turned defensive, blushing and ducking his dark eyes, one of his usual snarky comments right there on his lips. But it never came, his skinny shoulders just relaxed, slumping in defeat inside one of the oversized cable knit sweaters he always wore.

“You don’t know that, Pops. I could fuck it up completely,” AJ grumbled under his breath.

Within a heartbeat, Eliza had their son’s left hand in her’s; Alex had his right, their expressions of concern and love mirroring each other exactly. Eliza didn’t ask for any money for the swear jar, not right now, over the years AJ had given more than enough.

“You’ve worked so hard, mijo,” Alex said firmly, “You’ve earned this.”

Eliza’s voice was warm and loving, “You’re going to do so well, Alexander. We know you will.”

AJ swallowed hard and talked quickly, deliberately not looking at either of his parents but he held their hands back, “I just…do you see why I might not want one of the top lawyers in the country, who happens to be my father, hovering while I make my very first case? Just in case I disappoint him?”

There was a long moment before Alex answered, his voice trembling gently with emotion, thinking back to when he’d bounced that little boy on his knee and felt his heart threaten to burst with pride, “AJ, you’re my son. I love you. What could you possibly do to disappoint me?”

“You guys,” AJ groaned, back to his old self, taking his hands back and crossing his long arms over his chest, “Come on. This is why I don’t come round here anymore.”

Eliza laughed, leaning against Alex’s shoulder; “You’ve been here at least twice a week since you moved out, honey. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Only so I don’t starve,” AJ grumbled but there was a definite smile in his eyes.

“So…” Alex raises his eyebrows hopefully, “Can I come sit in on your session tomorrow?”

AJ wrinkled his nose and groaned in defeat, “Fine. You can come.”

Alex’s face split into a wide grin and high fived Eliza, ignoring how his son sank lower in his chair until he slid right onto the floor, though he reached up to take his bowl of spaghetti with him.

“But you’re not allowed to cheer!” he warned, his voice slightly muffled, “And no interrupting! And no crying! And no making a big deal of it in front of my colleges!”

Alex just rolled his eyes, pressing his lips to the top of Eliza’s head, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…as long as I get to come and see my boy, I don’t care.”

“And you’re not allowed to make a sign!”

“Damn it…” Alex growled.

 -

AJ did well, of course he did, he was Alexander Hamilton Jr. He did brilliantly.

Hence why the rest of the people present in the courtroom were slightly surprised to see him, barreling through the corridor at top speed, closely pursued by the former Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton who was loudly yelling, “GET BACK HERE AND LET ME HUG YOU!”

They decided not to ask questions, however.


	18. At The End of The Day

Alex would always start at the bottom of the stairs, feeling like the normal, twenty one year old that he was. A bit tired, a bit frazzled but himself.   
As he climbed, it was like he could feel himself aging, bones getting heavier, limbs getting more leaden until just lifting them off the ground and onto the next worn, tile covered step was something he had to will himself to do. The ache would take root in his thighs first then climb the back of his legs to the base of his spine, settling there though not forgetting to send a few probing fingers of dull ache to his shoulders.   
By the time he actually reached his apartment, six stories and more steps than he could count (though he tried, he kept coming up with different numbers every time) later, he felt about seventy.   
And if it was like this for him, he didn’t even want to think about what it must be like for his poor Betsey.   
He really needed to call them about fixing that fucking elevator. 

Part of him knew, pointed out in the back of his mind in a thin, anxious voice, that most of what he felt was because he was working so late. Pulling as many back shifts as the crummy little fast food place he worked at would give him, going to the library on top of that to try and claw himself back from the looming jaws of his various deadlines, just about staying on top of the notes for all his different classes or read up on whatever baby development book he’d filched off Martha’s shelves that week, all of it was doing as much damage as the frigging stairs.   
And of course he knew that. He was just ignoring it for the most part.   
Because if he looked at it all too closely, if he realised just how exhausted and fractured and feverish his mind was, he’d fall in on himself, collapse like brittle iron worn down until it turned black. And Alex couldn’t afford that, not right now.   
More importantly, he couldn't allow it to show on his face, in the way he walked, in how he talked. Because then Betsey would see. 

He was so tired, he had to rattle the key angrily in the lock before it would open. Or maybe it was just the old lock seizing up. Once inside, he let his bag fall, hissing in pain as soon as he did and his shoulder flared as it tried to straighten itself out. Muttering curses under his breath, Alex tried to move through the pitch black apartment as quietly as he could. He knew somewhere in the warm darkness, Eliza would hopefully be sleeping, her face hopefully smooth and placid and peaceful, shoulders loose, maybe one hand draped lazily over her middle, cocooned up in the many blankets they had as if to try and compensate for the fact that they didn’t have a bed frame, dreaming, undisturbed. He was determined to keep it that way.   
The shower was his first destination, very aware that he reeked of grease, smoke and the kind of food he was still perpetually surprised people actually handed money over for and that he looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Then forwards. Then backwards again, for good measure.   
He didn’t turn the light on but the darkness was kindly becoming less total, enough that he could paw his way around without knocking his shins on any of their second hand furniture (most from Eliza’s parents) or any of the boxes they really should have unpacked by now, seeing as they’d been living here for four months. He made it to the shower, abandoning his clothes somewhere unseen along the way.   
He could have moaned in a very inappropriate way as the chill water hit his aching muscles and ran soothingly through his shoulder length hair. It felt a little like coming back from the dead, his muscles feeling less like stone and more like flesh again, his vision clearing. Alex never had the water particularly warm, more on the arctic end of the scale, which lead to Eliza letting out a startled and frankly adorable squeal the few times she’d decided to surprise him by pouncing on him as he’d showered. Since the first few times, she now loudly announced from the bedroom that she was about to ‘give her wonderful husband a very nice, naked surprise in five...four...three…’ giving Alex time to chuckle and turn the temperature up to a more human friendly level.   
The thought made him smile for the first time in nearly six hours as he stepped out, wringing out his hair and tying it in a knot at the top of his head, drying himself off perfunctorily. He didn’t bother picking up any pyjamas as he picked his way over to the bed, the day had been too warm and humid and full of clutter for that.   
As he’d hoped, his wife was asleep though her sweet, round face was more tense that he’d have liked, her shoulders a little hunched as she curled in on herself in her blanket nest. Alex took a moment to himself, to kneel by her and gently push a little of her dark hair away from her face. He grinned crookedly when he saw that she was wearing one of his shirts, one he’d been looking for the other day while Eliza had sat on the sofa with an expression of perfect innocence. She seemed to be holding it tightly, the neck of it pulled up over the lower half of her face in a curious kind of way, more how a child would grip a safety blanket.   
Alex moved the covers back gradually, to make room for himself but he took them a little further than he strictly needed to, all so he could have a little glimpse of her stomach, filled out and rounded in a way that put him in mind of paintings he’d seen of Demeter in all her glory. Her- well, his- shirt rucked up just under her breasts so he could admire the marbled patterns across her stretched skin, the ones that made her bite her lip and duck her eyes away but he would kiss and gently praise to bring her smile back.   
He had to swallow sharply to move the lump that had appeared suddenly in his throat. Though he didn’t feel the aches in his limbs so much anymore. 

He made a little room for himself by Eliza, not wanting to nudge or jostle her in case she woke up but almost as soon as he lay down, it was her who pressed herself close to him, arms winding around his waist with a soft, whispery sigh of contentment. Alex could almost see it as her expression relaxed and she pillowed her head on his shoulder, slipping back into a deeper sleep after just a few moments, though it seemed to him as if her mouth was curved upwards just a little.   
Smiling himself, Alex pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her back as tightly as she held him, their baby tucked up safe between them. Sleep could wait just a little longer. He wanted to enjoy this for a few moments.

**Author's Note:**

> These are all from tumblr, quantum-oddity! Come hang!


End file.
